Madrid, March 30, 2013 — john f.: A motley crew of Mormons walking The Way of St. James might seem strangers on the Camino indeed. This will not be the first time that Jordan and I have raised eyebrows as Mormons in a culturally non-Mormon setting. Nearly fifteen years ago we studied Yiddish together in Vilnius — many of our fellow students young and old, I recall, found it very amusing that a couple of Mormon brothers were among them.

Pondering the Camino on Good Friday turns my mind to the poor wayfaring stranger, the original Christian man. In Spanish, though, a pilgrim is also a stranger (“peregrino”). The Only Begotten Son of God appeared as the Good Samaritan in his own story about the fallen man beaten down by the world and left for dead on The Way. Mysteriously (like the Atonement), the Son of Man, being one of us, is also the man who fell among the robbers: what have we done to him in our dealings “with the least of these”?[1] Have we added insult to injury, contributing our own puny blows to those he has already suffered from a force more powerful? Too often I have.

A fundamental element of the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela is the giving of alms. The tradition is one of free giving — no strings attached, no “teaching him how to fish” rather than giving him a fish. Will we Mormons with our strong, perhaps overriding, cultural conditioning for the former (curiously in spite of King Benjamin’s injunction to the contrary, admonishing us to give liberally, in Mosiah 4:16) be able to do the latter? My track record on this is admittedly spotty at best — perhaps this will be an opportunity to let go and give for the sake of giving, helping simply because help is asked for. Has this commandment become hidden among our contextually specific political imperatives as a culture?

Can contact with the rich history of this pilgrimage help break me out of such a culturally determined paradigm of middle class judgmental expectations? I suspect this is a strong possibility: Christian pilgrims embarking on the Camino for more than a millennium have sought the same healing grace — oil and wine freely given from the Good Samaritan’s supply — miraculously experienced by the beaten man in the story as they have carried their burdens, like the beast in Jesus’ story, to Santiago. St. James stands with open arms at the end of the Camino, ready to receive any willing pilgrim just as he received the wounded man into his care as the Innkeeper in Jesus’ story about the Good Samaritan. The Camino, for countless pilgrims over the ages, has signified salvation, a way to transcend the fallen world. Many died along the way, their expectations thus literally fulfilled. Others basked in the spiritual light they discovered at the end of their journey. But at the very least, The Way has long been characterized by tales of overwhelming generosity among pilgrims and between pilgrims and the local inhabitants of the many cities, towns, and villages through which the pilgrims passed, seeking lodging, provisions, and other assistance along their way.

Quoting from Psalm 32, a liturgical source for Rosh Hashanah commemorations, might well be unorthodox for a Good Friday reflection given Passover’s distance from Rosh Hashanah in the liturgical calendar. Consistent with Psalm 119’s Good Friday meditation, however, most religious pilgrims who have walked the Camino throughout the ages have humbled themselves to the dust in seeking the quickening promised by God’s word and the discipline offered by such exertion. The Camino brought people low, revealing to them more strongly than ever their physical, intellectual, and spiritual limitations. Walking The Way as a high adventure vacation is a recent invention, a reification of the sublime made possible by society’s industrial progress — a debt we all must pay, a convenience we all cherish, but a pollution we disdain. To some extent, our little group of Mormons stands guilty of this temptation to reduce a potentially sublimely (ecumenically) uplifting experience to merely a fun outing, though I believe that most of us have deeper spiritual reasons for undertaking this challenge.

But even secular modern pilgrims with little interest in learning the Word and seeking the protection of revealed commandments are known to be edified by the experience and come away world-wiser for having done it. In fact, I first learned of this pilgrimage nearly a decade ago from a friend who, at the time, was very irreligious. The Camino changed him and he walks as a committed Evangelical Christian to this day. Another friend recently completed the pilgrimage and came away with profound spiritual insights about himself though such introspection did not tranform him into a religious person per se.

Psalm 32, however, messianically responds to Psalm 119’s plea for understanding of God’s commandments, ordinances, statutes, and judgments. Blessed with sought insights, the religious pilgrim must meditate on God’s miraculous ways. I will reveal to you and teach you The Way that you should walk, promises Psalm 32. A Mormon pilgrim, I take this promise seriously and hope to receive such inspiration as I walk, contemplating the miracle of Christ’s life and the correspondingly miraculous life of the Christian disciple, in our day as nearly 600 years ago when in about 1423 Ronan’s Worcester Pilgrim (probably a dyer named Robert Sutton)[2] made the trip on foot from Ronan’s stomping grounds in The Shire.

The pilgrim’s responsibility is to accept The Way willingly. Extending his law to us in mercy, God nudges us into the right path. But he does not put a bit in our mouths like a horse or mule, thus forcing our way. Nature forces us in certain ways; the fallen world creates a paradigm of necessity. But the horse or mule will only respond when forced by the pain or pressure from the bit as a result of a pull on the reins. We seek grace and therefore accept the responsibility of willingly approaching the Lord.

What could be more Mormon than asking for and recognizing the law and then upon receipt accepting the mandate to act according to our newly gained knowledge, in the process genuinely resisting forces of all kinds that act upon the natural man?[3]

These rambling musings — hopefully not a foreshadowing a rambling walk instead of a direct course! — hint at the meaning of the pilgrimage for me consciously undertaking this pilgrimage as a Mormon high priest (and not a proto or pretend Catholic): how do we truly walk as agents unto ourselves, free to decide to act and not to be acted upon as described in The Book of Mormon (see 2 Nephi 2:26-27), when we each face both external and internal forces — whether genetic, chemical, biological, environmental, cultural, or sociological — that both result from and perpetuate the circumstances of fallen mortality? Where does our received condition end and our responsibility begin? I suspect that the answer can only be found on an individual basis in prayerful consultation with the Lord. But gaining that insight while but seeing through a glass darkly is a challenge that dwarfs even the most rigorous medieval pilgrimage.

* * *

Ronan: I will be travelling from Worcestershire, England (paying homage to the Worcester pilgrim before I leave) to Sarria, Spain via San Sebastian in the Basque country. I have already written about my reasons for the pilgrimage.[4] I will tweet the journey @ronanhead.

Jordan F.: I am traveling the Way of St. James for several reasons:

fun with brother and friends

to think deeply as I walk for days about pressing issues in my life and make plans for how to change and rectify those things (in the past, the way of St. James was a path of penance)

to meet interesting people

to learn more about the biblical St. James along the way

I am especially excited to walk the Camino after Easter and in the wake of a new Pope because I expect to have stimulating, enlightening conversations with other pilgrims as I go about similarities and differences in our common Christian belief. I know that Jesus Christ lives and I hope that this exercise can bring me closer to Him as I discuss Him and His Gospel, and as I think deeply about how I am living His gospel in my own life, and how I can improve.

Peter LLC: A couple of days ago I visited an old friend in the hospital. After discussing his ailments and prospects for recovery, I told him that I planned to spend a week walking to Santiago de Compostela and would pray for him along the Way. He is nothing if not unaffected and direct, and his response–“Don’t you have anything better to do?”–was neither entirely unexpected nor without merit. I didn’t have to pause before conceding that I probably did have better things to do than take in the Galician countryside, largely footloose and almost fancy-free; and that’s been something I’ve wrestled with ever since I first heard about the trip.

On the one hand, the costs–in terms of time, money and parenting–are measurable and fairly specific, while on the other the benefits are still written in the stars. Plus, it feels a little selfish. Who wouldn’t want to leave behind the everyday responsibilities of work and family to spend a week trekking through the Spanish countryside with good friends à la mode du Jerome K. Jerome?

It wouldn’t be the first time that the individual nature of spiritual experiences and their seeming inefficiency have crossed my mind, however. On my mission to Austria, suggestions for better uses of my time ranged from digging wells in Africa to laying on the tracks to keep the trains laden with spent nuclear fuel from the Czech Republic where they were. And the paucity of baptisms (I don’t remember them exceeding 40 per year) meant that not only did each one consume much in terms of time and money, but often the only comfort one could that at least we were converting ourselves.

But a trip I made a few years later changed my outlook on the utility of spiritual journeys. I had carried a secret sorrow around with me for months, and time was proving to be a less than impressive healer. I had always wanted to walk across Liechtenstein as a missionary, and now as a student at the University of Salzburg I had the chance. When Easter rolled around, the weather was warm and the snow mostly melted. I took train and bus to the border and walked to the youth hostel in Schaan. The next day I walked across the valley, crossed the Rhine and entered Switzerland. The day was yet young and so I decided to bag a peak while I was at it. As I started up, I had something of an epiphany. I picked up a rock, scratched the nature of my sorrows on it and carried it up to the summit of the Margelchopf. There I buried it underneath a pile of rocks, stood back, and…it helped. Like the German idiom, a stone fell from my heart.

Many of life’s problems may be best mitigated by rolling up one’s sleeves and digging a well, stopping a train, and otherwise making yourself useful. But sometimes there’s nothing in particular that can be done. We may not be able to actively influence the course of events in the wake of illness, death or the decisions of others. And it’s times like these where I believe that carrying a rock to a mountain summit or a scallop shell to Santiago can help.

This year I find myself once again carrying a secret sorrow about which little can be done, especially not half a world away from those involved. And so I will fast, pray and carry it to Santiago. And hope that it helps.

Tana A.: “Yes!” was how I responded a few months ago when John C. mentioned that some friends were doing the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, and would the kids and I like to come? I responded automatically because when I read David McCullough’s book about John Adams several years ago, a part of it stayed with me. McCullough details a diplomatic trip to Paris that Adams undertook with his young sons John Quincy and Charles. Because of a leaky ship, they were forced to land not in Brest, but far to the south, in northwestern Spain. They traveled with pack mules backwards along the region of the Camino Francés (along portions of the Camino that we’ll follow), from the coast of Spain, till they hit the Pyrenees and swung northward, reaching Paris after a two month trip they undertook in December and January 1779-80. Since the weather in Galicia is roughly similar to Northern Ireland, his account mentioned constant rain and cold, as well as the plague of fleas and bedbugs, which he called “innumerable Swarms of Ennemies of all repose.” His biggest regret? In his journal account from Tuesday, December 28, 1779 he tells us: “I have always regretted that We could not find time to make a Pilgrimage to Saint Iago de Compostella.”[5]

I didn’t want to have the same regret. The opportunity to walk the Camino was a no-brainer. Like most parents, one of my favorite things is to take my kids to experience things. The Adams boys, John Quincy and Charles, were 12 and 9 at the time they went on this trip. Our children, GC and SC, are 12 and 9. I think that’s an amazing coincidence. Their ages will be the only similarity, modernity having its advantages (and vice versa), but maybe I’ll force my kids to write an account of each day like John Adams did. To be fair, that means I’ll have to write one, too. Unlike Abigail, who was sad that she usually was unable to have these sorts of experiences, I get to go!

Hiking in the backcountry with my family is my favorite thing to do. I enjoy other, more “cultural” pursuits, but I LOVE exploring Utah, Florida, this area, etc. I enjoy walking alone, but prefer to experience life with my children, and with John C. GC is like Tom Hanks in “Big”. At 12 years, he is taller than his father–a giant man-boy who leaps around with a crazy glint in his eyes, sucking up LIFE. SC already catches nuances that I miss. And she is witty. These kids notice things that I don’t; they frame things in ways that I wouldn’t. This will be a joy. Unless it’s not.

My only regret before we even begin our journey this Saturday? That we don’t have time to go to Finis Terrae (Finisterra on modern maps), the area where the cockleshell covered body of St. James washed ashore in a stone boat. As you know, this is also the place where the Visigoths, the Romans, the Celts, and their predecessors, would go on pilgrimage to see the “end of the earth.” As they watched the sun dip into the Ocean at sunset, they prayed that it would reappear in the opposite direction the next morning.

Besides all that, what better way is there to celebrate our 16th wedding anniversary than by shouldering our becockleshelled backpacks, schlepping through Celtic wind and rain with our kids and a bunch of men, and sleeping in a pilgrimage albergue with 50 other ear-plugged modern pilgrims? I’m serious when I say that I can’t think of a better way. Happy Anniversary, babe.

John C.: I’m thinking of myself as the Jost of our group (if you’ve seen the movie, The Way). I’m pretty much going because it sounds like fun. I’m not opposed to finding a higher spiritual purpose in the trip, but I’m not expecting one nor will it be a disappointment if I don’t find one. It sounds like a fun hike and time spent with people I like. It’s enough.

SC (9): I watched a cool movie about it called “The Way”.

GC (12): I’ve been wanting to go to Spain and my religion teacher, Pater Thaddeus, says that the incense thing at the cathedral in Santiago hit the ceiling while he was there and he wishes he could go back. Also somewhere we might see a little chapel that’s mainly gold inside even though the outside just looks like a shack. I recommend that everyone watch “The Way”.[6]

* * *

Sitting in Madrid at the Plaza de España finishing this post begun yesterday on Good Friday, I already have quite the journey behind me to contemplate as the beginning of my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. An 817 mile drive from Provo to San Jose, California and then a 5,787 mile flight from San Francisco to Madrid, all spread over four days, is a marvel of our modern age. The walking distance will be minuscule compared to such a distance. But the slow pace will allow time for the kind of meditation that has sanctified the pilgrimage experience for thousands, perhaps millions, over the last millennium since Christians have been doing this pilgrimage.

We intend to update this post as we progress, internet access permitting. This will be experimental but, at the very least (we hope), an interesting attempt.

Jordan and Peter disembarking from the night train in Sarria at 6:50 am.

Portomarín, April 1, 2013, 4:00 pm — Quick first update. After enjoying Easter weekend in Madrid, Peter, Jordan, and I stumbled out of the train into the pouring rain to set foot on The Way for the first day. We grabbed breakfast with a handful of other pilgrims arriving from a variety of countries before heading out to find Ronan, John C., Tana, and their children in town. The meeting place was the Church of Santa Marina. Comatose, we headed into town.

Jordan meeting up with the others at Santa Marina.

We found the Crawfords at their pilgrim hostel, the Albergue Mayor, as the rain began to fall, portending a wet day.

One of several old chapels along today’s 14 mile stretch

More later today after we all get settled in at the pilgrim hostel. But a preliminary observation was the truly international nature of the pilgrims along The Way. Tana speaks excellent Spanish and everyone in our present party speaks German. As we walked, we greeted and spoke with people from many countries, including a very friendly pair of siblings from the Philippines. The latter were expressly walking The Way as a religious pilgrimage, having just graduated from one of the Loyolas in the Philippines. They seemed overjoyed to be on The Way — which set an example for me given that I was already feeling the strain of carrying the pack on the hike after having not gotten any sleep on the overnight train thanks to the jetlag! But as the D&C reframes the idea of fasting and prayer as rejoicing, this couple showed a palpable degree of rejoicing not only despite but actually in the strains and pains of the journey. Now that’s a pilgrimage philosophy to consider adopting right away.

Peter LLC’s Update:

A couple of snapshots from the first day:

The motley crew departs.

Monastery in Sarria

Brooks, fields and stones

Brooks, fields and stones

Brooks, fields and stones

Brooks, fields and stones

Brooks, fields and stones

Galician smokehouse

John C.’s Update:

Folks, Spain (well, Galicia) is pretty. Really incredibly pretty. You are probably aware that Alma argues that everything testifies of God; I won’t speak to that. However, I would argue that the scenary in Northern Spain testifies of God’s Love, because dang, ya’ll. Anyhoo, here are a few pictures. Note the wet.

Palas de Rei, April 2, 2013, 9:30 p.m. — Today I lost my faith in evolution, for if we evolved to walk bi-pedally, why are we so rubbish at doing it? I mean, our homo sapiens ancestors who walked out of the rift valley didn’t collapse and sleep after 16 miles. Maybe it is our desk jobs, but still . . . A mutation to provide humans with wheels would be useful.

The road from Portomarín to Palas de Rei was not as hilly as yesterday’s but a bit longer. The weather is mostly fine and the pasty among us are catching the sun. John F. is thinking misanthropic thoughts about the loud Spanish teenagers on the camino. Hopefully St. James will grant him more charity.

john f.’s Update:

G.C. emerging from a downpour.

Though we did appropriate background reading about The Way, none of us quite expected this level of precipitation. G.C., the Crawfords’ 12-year-old son, is a real trooper. Rain or shine, he is always leading the pack. John C. is having a very hard time keeping up with him.

An old stone barn in Castromaior.

The scenery, however, is living up to its reputation. The Way leads through numerous hamlets and villages, very beautiful old dwellings, sheds, and barns. Rural Galicia is as beautiful as any province in Europe and the people have been extremely hospitable. This has been surprising to me considering how weary you would think they could be by now of the constant stream of pilgrims always passing in front of their houses or walking across their fields. Of course, since it’s a tradition going back more than 1,000 years, hospitality toward pilgrims might be written right into the DNA of these people.

Peter LLC on the open road.

Peter is the veritable backbone of this expedition. Moving from small cluster of Mormon pilgrims to another, he is like one of the Three Nephites somehow transported across the sea to minister to the downtrodden among us (ahem, Ronan limping along). If you get the chance to walk The Way with him or climb in the Austrian Alps, don’t pass it up! And make sure he tells you at least a few of the many stories he has about getting soaked while climbing one Alpine peak or another.

An ancient pilgrim cemetery near the tiny village of Eirexe.

The walk took a somber turn, though the sun finally came out, as we came across an old pilgrim cemetery. I had read about the many pilgrims who never finished their pilgrimages, whether the Camino or other well established pilgrimages across Europe. Some of them gave up hope due to the difficulty of The Way and simply settled in one of the random villages along the way. Others met a pretty girl in some hamlet and ended up making a life there with her. But many more, especially among the impoverished pilgrims who felt called to undertake the pilgrimage but without appropriate resources, had to walk without purse or scrip. I’ve been amazed to learn about the true charity that people along The Way showed the pilgrims throughout the Middle Ages and beyond. Even the poor would be given sustenance and accommodation (usually). But these people were in poor health to begin with and a lot of them died along The Way. They ended up in cemeteries like this.

Arzúa, April 3, 2013, 7:15 p.m. — My guidebook suggests that at some point on the camino we should ask “who is St. James?” The initial answer is easy: he is an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ. The second may be less palatable to some walking the camino: I find it very doubtful that he came to Spain. This is the stuff of myth-making in an age of Christian chivalry. But as is often the case with such things, historicity is a secondary concern to inner meaning. So who is St. James? Today I decided he is me, at least me at the end of the journey. And that journey is in so many ways not over.

This is a tough walk. I’m in reasonably good shape but the load on my back and the trudging along the road is wreaking havoc with my knees. They were hurting every single step of the way today. Fifteen miles for the third day in a row is not an easy thing to do in such a state. Many people are in a worse state, of course. Our albergue neighbour is hobbling along with his deceased wife’s shell. He started at the Pyrenees but diagnosed with an enflamed tendon, a doctor told him he can only do 12km a day. The camino will take a while for Bob.

But this is not woe is us. I’m writing this in my bed in a lovely albergue sharing a room with good friends. We are enjoying the conversations, the greetings of buen camino!, and seeing some of the same friendly faces at each stage. The quick chat with an Irish catholic chaplain about Aquinas while cleaning my teeth yesterday is the stuff this camino is made of.

John C.’s Update:

Flower tree in Portomarín

My feet ache. They started aching after walking for roughly an hour and a half. I had another 6 hours to go. Also, we misread the guide book. We thought we were supposed to stop at a certain point, but, boy howdy, were we wrong. When you have been looking forward to an end and it doesn’t come when you think you should, it gives you pause. If we are to endure to the end, we don’t actually choose the timing (or the nature) of the end. We were lucky in that my wife drove ahead and choose a hostel for us. And the end of the day’s path, it helps immensely to know that you’ve got a soft landing coming.

Sheep—-le.

An old country church

We’re not in Kansas

Pretty old field and creek

My first Madonna picture, taken in Palas de Rei

The road goes ever on…and on…and…

Ronan, his pain immortalized

John C.’s son, trying to not look impressed with the sites in Spain

Crossing a creek. Three youths offered to carry us over, but we passed.

Even when I get tired, I always remind myself that this place is really pretty

View of a field from Arzúa

john f.’s Update:

This region boasts lots of irrigation that even Mormon pioneers would envy. Of course, they probably would have seen the never-ending precipitation as a blessing rather than an inconvenience!

As others have written, this has been the hardest leg of the journey by far so far. Our hopes were dashed as we passed the “40 km” marker, which we thought would be our end-point for the day, only to find that the road continued ever onward, and uphill. I had pressed ahead of the group and began to fear that I had somehow overshot the mark and had left our chosen albergue behind. I decided if that were the case, I would not be going back — no Brigham Young style rescue from this weary walker!

The pilgrims who walked The Way in medieval times only knew where their next likely resting spot would be by word of mouth by other pilgrims, proprietors, or members of religious orders in the locales where they laid their heads on a particular night. We have exact maps and periodic stone markers indicating the distance walked, or rather left to walk, and we still can’t get it right sometimes. As ancient pilgrims walked through dense woods or marshy stretches, they also had to look out for brigands or others who meant them harm, though as a general matter people seem to have left religious pilgrims unmolested. This was the reason the official pilgrimage credentials granting safe passage from the ruling party of particular territories was so important. We are also carrying such credentials, mostly to use as proof that we have legitimately walked The Way once we arrive in Santiago de Compostela and present ourselves to the religious authorities of the Cathedral to receive our Credential certifying our successful completion of the walk.

Straight is The Way, but Narrow the Gate?

Precedent and appropriate communication with other pilgrims along The Way, or knowledgeable locals, allowed ancient pilgrims to find the right path. But in truth, many paths wound their way through the Galician hills and countryside, often feeding back into a relatively main path at tricky river crossings or at key mountain passes. Though a possibly trite or cheesy observation, walking The Way does offer itself as an analogy of our walk through life. The slow pace, the pain we experience, the inner dialogue with God that is possible if we put ourselves into the right frame of mind all contribute to such a comparison. Most of us have landed in this life in certain networks of support. Walking The Way of our life as a loner, as I can be tempted to do sometimes, can actually become a dangerous proposition. We really are interdependent on each other; our need to assist others along The Way is as strong as our need for assistance to find the right path. As King Benjamin taught, we are all beggars who will not survive The Way without the help of fellow travelers and helpers pointing out the right path alike. As Mormons we have an abundance of such guidance, primarily through the scriptures and often through inspired guidance by living Church leaders. The Book of Mormon, echoing concepts available to us in the Bible, refers to the straight way that lies before us:

Behold, the way for man is narrow, but it lieth in a straight course before him, and the keeper of the gate is the Holy One of Israel; and he employeth no servant there; and there is none other way save it be by the gate; for he cannot be deceived, for the Lord God is his name. (2 Nephi 9:41)

My experience is that the path through life’s journey actually is not in a “straight course”, though the path of righteousness surely is. If scriptures ranging from the Old Testament through to the Book of Mormon have any meaning, then I have to believe this. And yet, I believe that we continue to see through a glass but darkly as we negotiate this particular path. The course of our life might be as crooked as any hiker’s path up any mountain. But as we walk that path, which stretches out before us in a course not of our own making, we can put ourselves on another path — a more meaningful and important path — that is straight. Like medieval pilgrims who have gone before, our best and most immediate recourse should be to our fellow travelers for help, support, and guidance along this path.

O Pedrouzo, April 4, 2013, 9:20 p.m. — Buen Camino! Tonight, while eating Galician delicacies of Octopus in Garlic Butter and Fried Turnip and Pig Ear Paste, our server looked at me, John C., G.C., John F., and Peter LLC, and in all seriousness asked whether John C. was the father of all these boys! Papa Crawford!

Cows on a village street, O Pedrouzo

Seriously, though, the Camino has been a life-changing event for me. I came with some very serious problems and issues, and some very challenging personal situations. I have been spending nearly every waking minute on the trail pouring out my heart to God and listening for what He has to say — and I feel He has spoken to me as I use my labor on the Camino to focus my thoughts and prayers. The Camino is a way of penance, and I have used the opportunity to shed many things from my soul that have long burdened me.

The Church of Santa Eulalia in O Pedrouzo

Last night, I was exceptionally burdened because of a challenging situation at home. I tossed and turned and could not sleep. As it often the case, the Lord comforted me, and to gain that comfort, I felt prompted to do something. I have noticed the last few days that the Camino (the Way of the Pilgrimage here in Spain) is, unfortunately, quite strewn with litter.

Scallop Shell background at the altar of St. Eulalia

So, this morning, after such an anxious night, the Lord prompted me to grab a grocery sack and spend the first part of my pilgrim’s journey today picking up litter all along the road, with my heavy pack and all. Performing this small service on the Camino took my mind off my problems, and as the bag of trash got heavier and heavier, it reminded me of the burden that Christ picks up for each of us as he collects our garbage from our souls. And, when I threw the garbage away after lugging an overfull bag around until I found a proper trash receptacle for it, it reminded me how refreshing it is to lay our burdens on the Lord. And that is what I have now done. I love God, and His beloved Son for being willing to shoulder this burden. Anyway, I thought you might find it interesting to hear how I spent a few kilometers doing a small, insignificant, but personally healing service project along the Camino.

Rural farmhouse

Of course, Ronan reminded me that I should not expect any blessings for this — and I don’t — because the Lord expects us to do what we are able to do. So, since I was still physically able to bend over and pick up trash, which Ronan is apparently not, I was obligated to render this service. Be that as it may — it helped me find some peace today.

Tana guiding Ronan and John C. into town.

Cows have the right of way in a small village along The Way

Mists lingering in the distance shortly after leaving Arzua

john f.’s Update:

The old village church in Santa Irene

The Way gives ample opportunity for introspection. This is a comforting element of the walk for an introvert like me. I can’t say I had any deep thoughts while walking today — my mind focused mostly on a painful spot developing on my left heel that I worried would be a blister before too long. But as at other times during this hike, my mind has continually returned to the medieval pilgrims who undertook this journey. It seems incredible to me that they did so without the modern boot technology that we enjoy, that they relied largely on the charity and generosity of the local populations as they moved slowly along their way.

Someone’s sacred grove?

One thing I know for sure is that this pilgrimage and many other similar routes across Europe meant something far more to those pilgrims than a challenging hike, a high-adventure trip to add to the list of sporting achievements. Ronan and I were chatting about the question “who is St. James?” to each of us individually. He wrote about that before. Of course, I believe in the biblical St. James and in fact for a long time, perhaps still now, I appreciated the material in the New Testament epistle ascribed to him more than almost all other teachings or doctrine in the New Testament. But as I have walked, I have tried to get into the frame of mind in which it would be possible to believe in the myth surrounding his ministry to Spain and then his ultimately finding his final resting place in Spain. I have found that from a religious perspective, that just isn’t possible for me. However, there is or can be immense Faërie value in the myth and myriad stories surrounding St. James’ presence in Spain and, in fact, in his role as Spain’s patron saint. In fact, I suspect that this is precisely the value that The Professor would derive from such tales of Catholic saints and their miracles.

The end of the road — about to enter the Pilgrim’s Office adjacent to the Cathedral in Santiago de Compostela

Santiago de Compostela, April 5, 2013, 10:30 p.m. — On the first day that I uploaded photos, there is one with a yellow spray-painted arrow. Scroll down to that one, take a look, and then come back. I’ve been thinking quite a bit about those arrows. There were very few extraneous arrows; generally each one was carefully placed in exactly the necessary spot to guide a pilgrim along. There were some false arrows out there, leading one from the path to restaurants run by presumably unscrupulous owners. But, even then, there was always another arrow, pointing out the true path.

Make sure to touch the saint as you enter the Cathedral

Each of those arrows represents the thoughtful consideration of some person. All of those arrows collectively represent the care and guidance of thousands, stretching back hundreds of years, all hoping to lead souls to their desired destination. A multitude of people, united by a single concept, motivated by a desire to serve God and His children; Is there a better example of Zion out there today?

The amazing Cathedral of St. James at Santiago de Compostela

Today we reached our destination. We entered the Cathedral, saw the relics, embraced the statuary, felt the awe, certified our trip, went to our hostel and took a nap. This trip, like all trips, will only be a blip in our lives. I think that we all share a hope that its effects on us will not be so transitory.

A templar pilgrim stood as sentinel along The Way as we entered Santiago de Compostela

An early glimpse of Santiago as we rounded the hill — Ronan walking ahead.

A monument atop Mount Joy (“El Monte de Gozo”) — traditionally some pilgrims would walk barefoot from Mt. Joy down into Santiago

The staff and scallop shell (and the scrip) are symbols of The Way.

On Day 4 we stopped about 4 km outside of O Pedrouzo for a warm meal at a cafe in O Pino

Santiago de Compostela, April 6, 2013, 7:30 p.m. — The Camino is over but we still had unfinished business in Galicia. A few words about the pilgrims’ mass from me.

At midday the cathedral was full, mostly with pilgrims. An enthusiastic nun read out a list of some of the places we had come from. This was an international event. Most were Roman Catholic and took the Eucharist; many were there to seek communion with Sant Iago (I knelt before his reliquary and offered the prayers to God I had come to say); all were moved at the very least by the very spectacle. This video is of the botafumeiro. I can’t really describe it. You will have to watch it:

A trip to Finisterre and a cold dip in the Atlantic then sealed the Camino. The fellowship of the Mormon Confraternity of St. James is broken . . . for now.

Day 5 was the end of the pilgrim’s journey as we slowly walked from Mt. Joy down into Santiago and wound our way painfully through the narrow streets of the medieval city to the Cathedral complex. Reaching the pilgrim’s office and receiving our Latin credentials certifying successful completion of The Way, we were at the end of the journey but not yet at the end of the world.

Peter’s feet at the End of The Way.

The agenda for Saturday, April 6, 2013 — our last day together (though Peter already had to fly on Friday evening) — included attending the Pilgrim’s Mass in the Cathedral and heading out to Finisterre, the End of the Earth, together before splitting up to head to our respective homes. While sitting waiting for the Mass to begin, Ronan and I contemplated the remarkable claims that we were literally in the presence of relics of the Apostle James. For just a moment, we glimpsed the animation that such a myth can generate. This put us in the right frame of mind of the Mass itself.

Peter LLC’s photo of the Cathedral altar and surrounding decoration and iconography.

The Bishop gave an excellent sermon about Communion — the inner communion that a pilgrim quickly achieves while on The Way as he or she gets reacquainted with him or herself, with the specific abilities and limitations of our bodies, with the pains of the walk and the refreshment of the nightly rest in pilgrim’s hostels. He spoke of the pilgrim’s inner communion with God that can be sought and found while walking The Way and expressed the hope that each of the pilgrims present had worked toward such inner dialogue with God on The Way. He ultimately compared such a personal sense of communion with God to the Communion each individual has to the Church and, through the Church, to God.

You wouldn’t want to meet this guy in a dark alley! Jordan strolling the narrow streets of the old town in Santiago de Compostela

Looking back on the walk and on many conversations with others in our group along The Way, I reflected on some of my original thoughts before beginning the walk. Though we might be subject to forces outside of our control, and in fact our environment and genetic or biological conditions can wreak havoc with our lives, we have recourse to an outside source of help as well — this communion with God can assist us in learning how to gain control over those things that are uniquely within our control. Biology might circumscribe a narrower range of such characteristics for some people than for others. But part of our mortal experience is learning to deal with what we’ve been given. This is a simple and obvious lesson. One that I’ve discussed at other times with various people in my life. But the discussions I had with people I love and respect on this particular walk have thrown this point into stark relief. We can become empowered to construct something worthwhile of the wreckage left over after truly stormy life experiences overwhelm us and bring us low.

Peter LLC found a single dry spot on the road!

We often blunder into these catastrophes, bewildered, as the natural consequences of our actions, including some that are unfortunately unintentional but which result naturally from our unique personalities and biological attributes. Recognizing the source of the trouble and humbly accepting that our own weaknesses have contributed in perhaps large part to them is the first step. Frequently, this recognition also means seeking appropriate medical help or therapeutic care to help us “manage the creature,” so to speak, such as in situations of chemical or mental health issues. While obtaining such help, an essential second step is perhaps to give our will over to God as the only thing that is uniquely ours to give, as Elder Maxwell used to teach. When we do so, we create a posture of inner communion with God. In Elder Maxwell’s words, “If instead of drawing closer to the Master we become a stranger to Him, then we have lost our way. . . . To use another Book of Mormon phrase, we must be ‘willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict’ (Mosiah 3:19). Whenever our wills are increasingly subsumed by His — the Book of Mormon calls it ‘swallowed up in the will of the Father’ (Mosiah 15:7) — then we really are on the road to discipleship.”

Brothers at the End of the Earth.

My discussions and experiences with my companions on The Way have redirected me on the road to discipleship and I thank them for freely discussing their perspectives, problems, and hopes with me as we trudged along.

I had plenty of time to think things over as Ronan, Jordan, and I drove nearly two hours from Santiago de Compostela to meet the Crawfords at Finisterre. We simply couldn’t leave the region without having ventured to the “End of the Earth”. On the rock outcrop that carries this name, we enjoyed the beautiful view and observed piles of burned clothes and shoes — signs that pilgrims had pressed on past Santiago de Compostela and, upon reaching the lighthouse on the rock, had burned something from their pilgrimage in the recognition of an ending and the hope of a new beginning. Our company did not burn anything but we celebrated an ending as our fellowship parted ways, the Crawfords heading by car to Madrid, the Fowles and Ronan returning to Santiago de Compostela where we would catch the night train to Madrid leaving Ronan as the lone remnant of our Mormon Confraternity in Santiago.

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2013/03/30/a-stranger-a-pilgrim-liveblogging-el-camino/feed/1john f.scallop shell symbolDetail of stained glass depicting St. James the Greater with his pilgrim hat, staff, and scallop shells. From Rouen, Normandy, c.1270, source: http://www.sacred-destinations.com/france/paris-cluny-museum-photos/slides/xti_9012cThe Worcester Pilgrim, source: http://www.whitbourne.org.uk/KatherineLack/lectures.htmlJordan and Peter disembarking from the night train in Sarria at 6:50 am.Jordan meeting up with the others at Santa Marina. One of several old chapels along today's 14 mile stretchThe motley crew departs.Monastery in SarriaBrooks, fields and stonesBrooks, fields and stonesBrooks, fields and stonesBrooks, fields and stonesBrooks, fields and stonesGalician smokehouseIMG_2678IMG_2677IMG_2672IMG_2668IMG_2667IMG_2666IMG_2657IMG_2655IMG_2654DSC_0164DSC_0167DSC_0201DSC_0205DSC_0215DSC_0154G.C. emerging from a downpour.An old stone barn in Castromaior.Peter LLC on the open road.An ancient pilgrim cemetery near the tiny village of Eirexe.DSC_0227DSC_0231DSC_0277DSC_0288DSC_0290DSC_0298Flower tree in PortomarinSheep----le.An old country churchWe're not in KansasPretty old field and creekMy first Madonna picture, taken in Palas del ReyThe road goes every on...and on...and...Ronan, his pain immortalizedJohn's son, trying to not look impressed with the sites in SpainCrossing a creek. Three youths offered to carry us over, but we passed.Even when I get tired, I always remind myself that this place is really prettyView of a field from ArzúaThis region boasts lots of irrigation that even Mormon pioneers would envy. Of course, they probably would have seen the never-ending precipitation as a blessing rather than an inconvenience!Straight is The Way, but Narrow the Gate?Octopus in butter -- the local delicacyCows on a village street, O PedrouzoThe Church of Santa Eulalia in O PedrouzoScallop Shell background at the altar of St. EulaliaRural farmhouseTana guiding Ronan and John C. into town.Cows have the right of way in a small village along The WayMists lingering in the distance shortly after leaving ArzuaThe old village church in Santa IreneSomeone's sacred grove?The end of the road -- about to enter the Pilgrim's Office adjacent to the Cathedral in Santiago de CompostelaMake sure to touch the saint as you enter the CathedralThe amazing Cathedral of St. James at Santiago de CompostelaA templar pilgrim stood as sentinel along The Way as we entered Santiago de CompostelaAn early glimpse of Santiago as we rounded the hill -- Ronan walking ahead.A monument atop Mount Joy ("El Monte de Gozo") -- traditionally some pilgrims would walk barefoot from Mt. Joy down into SantiagoThe staff and scallop shell (and the scrip) are symbols of The Way.On Day 4 we stopped about 4 km outside of O Pedrouzo for a warm meal at a cafe in O PinoRonan and John and the end of the worldMorning view of the Cathedral from our pilgrim's hostel, "Roots 'n Boots".Peter's feet at the End of The Way.Peter LLC's photo of the Cathedral altar and surrounding decoration and iconography.You wouldn't want to meet this guy in a dark alley! Jordan strolling the narrow streets of the old town in Santiago de CompostelaPeter LLC found a single dry spot on the road!Brothers at the End of the Earth.Mouths of Babes — Does Can Mean Should?https://abev.wordpress.com/2013/03/01/mouths-of-babes-does-can-mean-should/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2013/03/01/mouths-of-babes-does-can-mean-should/#commentsSat, 02 Mar 2013 01:55:26 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=809]]>O be wise, what can I say more?

A Mormon boy from an affluent neighborhood in Utah, barely 18 years old, will leave a few days after graduating from high school for the crushing poverty, suffering, and misery of Sierra Leone. This isn’t the plot of an off-color Broadway musical. It’s going to happen in a couple of months to a real person.[1] He’s not going to experience mere culture shock; it will be an entirely different world, a different universe. Nothing in the boy’s lived experience up until this point is going to have prepared him for even the smallest percentage of what he is going to observe landing there. I hope and pray he survives!

There isn’t much difference between an 18 year old boy and a 19 year old boy — both are teenagers still, both usually as green as can be. On paper it’s a wash.

18 Is the New 19: A Much Needed Policy Change Outside the United States

The rule that boys must be nineteen to serve a mission long caused problems in the United Kingdom and elsewhere in the world where the system for higher education is based on different age milestones resulting from the different educational systems than in the United States. Ronan explained the phenomenon two years ago.[2] His explanation accords with my own observations of the educational problem for Mormon youth in the United Kingdom. Simply stated, far fewer young men were planning on attending university because the mission effectively functioned as a bar given the structure of the educational system. So they did not even view that as a possibility and consequently did not set that as a goal as they plodded day by day through their secondary education (i.e. their equivalent of high school). In contemplating the problem at that time, Ronan recommended lowering the missionary age from 19 to 18 for young men in the UK.[3]

The traditional 19 year old policy appears to have been based specifically on the educational system in the United States: you finish high school at 17 or 18, attend a year of university, and then take a leave of absence for two years to complete your mission, returning to university after the mission to finish your studies. The two year deferral for the mission was, of course, a given at universities in Utah and the Mormon Corridor more broadly. Even outside of Mormon country, American universities proved very amenable to allowing such a leave of absence for this purpose. Catering to the needs of your customers has always been a hallmark of American culture. The prospect of a mission did not even function as a bar (in most cases) for considering studies at America’s most elite colleges and universities.

The problem arose when that rule was applied universally to the whole world, apparently ignoring the very different educational and professional systems in which our youth operate outside the parameters of life in the American suburbs.

British and European boys, for example, faced dual challenges in many cases complying with the 19 year old rule: the different process of advancing in the various countries’ educational systems and a kind of social inertia[4] that resulted as a natural but unintended negative consequence of generations of youth being effectively barred from studies at elite universities in their countries because of missionary service. With the mission as an effective bar to pursuing university education, many young men had little motivation to find ways around it, as Ronan did, and he was only able to do it with considerable support from his family.[5] But this is the follow-on inertia problem, as I noted in Ronan’s 2011 discussion about this problem:

[O]ne point I was trying to make is that this is definitely a self-fulfilling cyclical prophecy. In other words, Mormon men who faithfully went on missions and therefore had to forego any hope of Oxford or Cambridge for their undergraduate degrees simply will not raise their own children with the goal of attending Oxford or Cambridge, especially since they will undoubtedly raise their children with a view to faithfully serving a mission. What Ronan’s post is trying to point out is how mutually exclusive these two things are. Ronan himself did not attend Oxford as an undergraduate but rather for his master’s. And yet in the UK, it might surprise many Americans (including perhaps many General Authorities in SLC?) to learn that an undergraduate degree is all it takes to enter many of the professions, including law, medicine, accounting etc. With undergraduate work at Oxford and Cambridge out of the picture for Mormon men, this puts our whole community at a disadvantage in terms of raising our youth with a sense that reaching the top of their chosen profession is a possibility. Of course this is not impossible but it is much more difficult. (emphasis added)

I have personally observed the existence and effect of this inertia in the UK. Ronan and I had discussed this problem many times, and I had discussed it with many other young Mormon professionals in the UK who had similar concerns, so I was in complete agreement with Ronan’s suggestion. I wrote at the time that “such a simple step as officially stating that men in the UK can serve their missions at 18 could go a long way to resolving this. It would take a generation but the people for whom this allows them to attend universities and enter the professions would then raise their children with university as a main goal of their education all throughout primary school.”[6]

Only a few months after Ronan’s post it became clear that this problem was also on the radar for General Authorities and likely had been for some time. In late Spring of 2011, a letter went out from Salt Lake City to stake presidents, bishops, and mission presidents that young men could now choose to serve missions at age 18 rather than waiting until age 19 in Germany, the United Kingdom, Albania, Cape Verde, Spain and Italy. Through its spokesman, the Church confirmed that “educational or military requirements in those countries” precipitated the change, as reported by the Salt Lake Tribune on August 25, 2011.[7] This was wonderful news for young Mormon men in those countries who wanted to serve missions and also attend their countries’ elite universities to pursue professional careers.

Does Can Mean Should?

In October 2012, President Monson opened General Conference by announcing a change in the missionary age policy for young men and young women.[8] The change of the missionary age for women from 21 to 19 was by far the bigger news from this announcement.[9] But President Monson began by acknowledging that “[f]or some time the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles have allowed young men from certain countries to serve at the age of 18 when they are worthy, able, have graduated from high school, and have expressed a sincere desire to serve. This has been a country-specific policy and has allowed thousands of young men to serve honorable missions and also fulfill required military obligations and educational opportunities.” (It really was wonderful to hear President Monson acknowledge that one size does not fit all and that a policy had been tailored to the specific needs of local members in areas where US conventions did not govern.)

Continuing, President Monson noted that they had received positive feedback about the service of these 18 year old young men serving missions in the affected countries: “Their mission presidents report that they are obedient, faithful, mature, and serve just as competently as do the older missionaries who serve in the same missions.”[10] President Monson then said that “[t]heir faithfulness, obedience, and maturity have caused us to desire the same option of earlier missionary service for all young men, regardless of the country from which they come” (emphasis in original). In other words, he announced that based on positive results in countries where this policy had already been implemented nearly 18 months previously, the lower missionary age would be applied universally.

Specifically, President Monson stated that “I am pleased to announce that effective immediately all worthy and able young men who have graduated from high school or its equivalent, regardless of where they live, will have the option of being recommended for missionary service beginning at the age of 18, instead of age 19″ (emphasis added).

The Church has strongly stressed that serving at 18 is only an option and not a new mandate for young men. In fact, President Monson stated this directly in the announcement, “I am not suggesting that all young men will—or should—serve at this earlier age. Rather, based on individual circumstances as well as upon a determination by priesthood leaders, this option is now available.” This is a strong caveat, all the more so because it followed in the sentence immediately after the announcement itself. Elder Nelson reinforced this in the press conference following the session:

Elder Nelson emphasized that the change is an option, not an edict:

“These age adjustments are new options now available to bishops in evaluating what is best for each of their youth,” he said. He continued, “Young men and young women should not begin their service before they are ready spiritually and temporally.”

He stated that schooling, family circumstances, health, and so forth still remain important considerations for the timing of missionary service.[11] (emphasis added)

The Church also noted that “[o]ver the past decade, permission has been given in 48 countries to let young men serve at age 18. Now, the Church will have a single policy worldwide” (ibid.).

This guarded message about the option to serve at 18 also comes through clearly in the Church’s online guidance about missionary service that now appears on the Church’s website: “Young men can now go on missions at age 18, provided they have completed high school. But because they can serve earlier doesn’t mean they have to. . . . Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles clarified, ‘We are not suggesting that all young men will—-or should—-serve at this earlier age. Many will still prefer to start at age 19 or older‘” (italics in original, bold added).[12]

The age change to 18 undoubtedly makes sense — and in fact is a much needed change — in many countries in the world outside the United States. And it is understandable that a universal policy was viewed as desirable. But on a practical level, does it make sense in the United States for boys to be taking advantage of this? The system in the United States is what the 19 year old policy was constructed around because the system allows a smooth transition from high school to one year of college/university to mission service premised on a deferral of university admission after the first year. This deferral is the mechanicism that is often not easily available in other countries such as the UK.

I have already witnessed a number of 18 year olds go on missions since the announcement. Is that a desirable outcome if they have not yet attended a year of university or worked for a year first? Is this going to hurt their prospects for a university education? Also, although Church leaders have received positive feedback about the maturity and faithfulness of 18 year olds who have served in the UK, Germany, and elsewhere since the policy change was announced for those areas about 18 months ago, legitimate questions still remain about whether 18 year olds coming straight out of high school in the US context are going to be as able to adjust to missionary life as someone who has lived for a year with a roommate at a university or while working for a year after graduating high school.

Are we ignoring the special and intentional emphasis the Church has put on the fact that serving at age 18 is an option and that, as Elder Nelson admonished, “Many will still prefer to start at age 19 or older”? I was especially intrigued by Elder Nelson’s quoted statement for two reasons. First, my feeling is that for the US context, it is still preferable for young men to serve at age 19 because our system here allows for that to happen without irreversible social consequences relating to education and career. It seems that General Authorities are saying that exigent circumstances are what would influence a young man to consider going at age 18 rather than at the traditional 19. IS it not preferable to have more mature missionaries? Second, this statement implies something that has always been the case but that seems to have been ignored by many (most?) members: serving even at 19 was always optional.

In other words, though there has long been a mandate for all young men to serve, a young man was always able to choose to serve later, for instance at 20 or 21, if circumstances required it. But in our discourse about missions, for the last several decades at least (I think it’s more accurate to say for the last fifty years at least), we have always spoken of age 19 as an absolute rule, even though this was not entirely accurate. But this was the received understanding among the mass of Latter-day Saints, including in such places as the UK, where in truth boys could always have set goals to attend university without worrying that the mission would effectively bar them from doing so because they could have decided to attend and complete university first and then serve their mission. In many cases in the UK, completing an undergraduate degree, including at the top institutions, only takes three, sometimes four years. Boys heading to university at 17 or 18 could have been out on their missions by 21 or 22. But I never once heard counsel of this nature given in any public address in the UK. The counsel was always a concrete mandate to serve at 19, which is what caused the mission to become a bar to our young men setting goals to attend university in the first place.

I am not sure why this approach was taken of teaching our youth in the UK that age 19 was an absolute rule during the period before they were allowed to serve at 18 as a means of making it possible for them to attend university (after they completed their missions). Did members, including local leadership up to the stake president and perhaps even Area Authority Seventy level, simply not realize that young men could choose to serve at 21 or 22 rather than having to leave strictly at age 19? Or did local leaders make a calculated decision to portray service at age 19 as an absolute rule because they believed that young men probably would not end up serving if they were allowed to choose to attend and complete their university education first?

Of concern, I have already observed that our discourse on missionary age at least in my ward in the United States is rapidly changing to present age 18 to our young men as the strict rule rather than as an option, an alternative tailored to special circumstances. Statements by the Church have led me to believe that age 18, in the United States, is intended to be an alternative, an exception, rather than the norm. But it is as if the strong caveat that the age change to 18 does not mean all should go at 18 is already being entirely ignored. Has anyone else noticed this? I have heard (with some sense of dismay) many lessons from teachers at Church and admonitions from the bishop on down to young mens leaders in all of the quorums to the effect that the boys have to work harder to prepare themselves because now they will need to be ready to go out right after finishing high school at age 18. It is being presented as a mandate just like age 19 was presented for decades.

* * *

I remember that some of the best, most effective and Christlike missionaries (by far) on my mission were Elders who had waited until their early 20s to serve a mission. Circumstances had required them to do this. At the time, they were not allowed to serve at 18 and so the mission would have prevented them from serving in the military and obtaining a university education in their home countries if they had gone at age 19.[13] Our mission president was very lucky to have them (they usually came from Switzerland or other European countries) and they always served as assistants to the mission president. Most missions could have benefited, I would think, from a greater number of more “mature” missionaries.

In sum, the Church has made very clear that candoes not meanshould on the question of whether boys should serve missions at age 18. From this I gather that the Church intends the Jacob rule to apply: “O be wise, what can I say more?” Early indications have hinted that we might be poised to violate this rule. If we can’t live up to this high standard, perhaps we can at least endeavor to apply its less noble corollary, the Bell rule: “Don’t do dumb things”.

————–

[1] In his farewell talk, he referred to the change of the missionary age policy from 19 to 18 to be the “greatest revelation” announced in his life.

[2] “Consider the British Mormon male. His religious culture wants him to serve a mission and, if he has reached 17 and is still active, he probably has an interest in serving himself. If he wants to serve he will have to withdraw from the university applications process. If he is at an academic school, he will likely be one of only a few who are similarly sidelined. If he is very bright, he will rebuff all attempts to get him to consider Oxbridge. His extreme Otherness will be confirmed.

Americans may wonder why he cannot start university, pause for his mission, then continue. Alas, people do not drop in and out of university here; once you start a degree you continue until you finish. Also, because he is confronted by the oddity which states that he cannot serve until he is 19, he has to occupy himself until he is 19 and will thus, in effect, be taking three years out of education. All the while his peers are starting their degrees and he is delivering pizza. A year into his mission he will have to apply for university intake and hope that none of the universities wish to interview him because it is unlikely that he will be able to return home. Hopefully they will also not see his mission as wasted time.

It is no wonder, perhaps, that some Mormon men thus choose not to serve missions, and some that do, choose not to bother with university. Here I reach for anecdote, so take it for what it’s worth, but in my experience in the UK, there are significantly more Mormon female graduates than there are male. I have one female friend studying in a university town where there are no male Mormon students. The men who go to university before missions tend to go inactive; many who come home from missions feel at 21-22 more obligated to quickly marry and support a family than to ‘indulge’ in education.” (http://bycommonconsent.com/2011/03/08/missions-and-the-british-mormon-male/)

[3] Ronan wrote, “I do worry at all the undereducated and professionally-stunted Mormon men I see in the UK, and I do wish we didn’t lose so many who feel that the choice in favour of missions over university is simply too hard to make. If I could hope for the church to consider one thing it would be to consider one year missions for Europeans, or, if that is too radical, to allow our men to serve at 18, as two years out of education is qualitatively less than three. If the goal is active, educated, professionally-satisfied, RM Mormon men, it is something to think about, at least.” (emphasis added)

In relating some of these costs, I am aware that I am myself an example that they can be overcome. Some of my friends have been similarly successful. I watched as my friends left for university and tried hard to convince my teachers that I wasn’t brainwashed into giving up my life for a cult. I worked in a cake factory before my mission and in a travel agency afterwards. I came home and eventually earned three degrees whilst married and with children. Professionally, I have arrived where I want to be. It can be done if you want it. I had to forego a potential place at Cambridge because I couldn’t return from Austria for an interview, and it has taken me until 35 to reach pay equality with my similarly-educated colleagues, but I have worked hard towards a goal and was determined to achieve it, thanks in large part to my family’s support” (emphasis added).

So the 19 year old missionary age rule did prevent Ronan from attending Oxford or Cambridge as an undergraduate, though in his case a solid goal to attend university from a young age, supported by his family, landed him at one of the UK’s other fine universities. And, in the end, he was able to attend graduate school at Oxford.

This has a more far reaching effect: many Mormon men who choose to serve a mission end up not attending university at all. If they have natural business acumen and are entrepreneurial by nature, they can still make it in the business world, although it really will have to be through pure entrepreneurship and not through a more traditional professional route. There are enough of these to make sure that there is still a pool of wealthy, self-made men who form a group of potential stake presidents in the UK. (This fact perhaps shields the problem from SLC because from all appearances, there seems to be enough LDS business leaders who are viewed as acceptable candidates for stake presidents?) But for the rest, they end up working in some business or other and because of the structural problem with universities and missions in the UK, they raise their own children with a view toward serving a mission and do not emphasize attending university very much, if at all.

This is a huge structural problem because here in the UK, if children do not have their eye on the goal of university by 9 or so years old (when they need to begin preparing in earnest for the 11+ exams, which will determine whether they get into the right schools and into the right study programs to put them on the track to make successful university applications), or at the latest by 14/15 as you note in your post, then they have precluded themselves from consideration at those universities ever. . . .

After primary school (= elementary school in American), children go into secondary school in a school based on what track they want to take several years down the road. Many of them, if they do not have university education in their future because of the priorities of their parents, go to a secondary school that is not even focused on preparing them for a university education but rather for a vocational career. So this starts very young in the UK and if the parents have not gone through the process then it is very unlikely they will raise their children with this as their goal.

The result is far fewer Mormons in the various professions. Mormon scientists, doctors, surgeons, academics, partners at top law firms, officials with high rankings in governmental agencies, not to mention the virtual army of business men and women with (or without) MBAs in the United States are a dime a dozen. Your post hightlights a key reason why this is not the case in the UK. (http://bycommonconsent.com/2011/03/08/missions-and-the-british-mormon-male/#comment-216033) (emphasis added)

[6] I also expressed my confidence that General Authorities were not aware that this self-defeating cycle was occurring and that if they did know about it, they would surely make an appropriate change:

I believe that if General Authorities in SLC learned that a certain policy that is crafted for a particular set of circumstances is actually detrimental to those living with a different set of circumstances when uniformly applied across the world to all circumstances, then they would quickly evaluate the issue and make surgical changes to ensure the well-being of all members of the household of God. For example, I have no doubt that if someone told the General Authorities that a particular mutable Church policy meant that very few, if any, Mormon men would ever be able to attend Harvard or Yale (or any other Ivy League university), then they would act very quickly in making a necessary change. Thus, I can only infer that our General Authorities are not fully aware of the situation on the ground in the UK — however I will note that Area Authority Seventies and Seventies in Area leadership are perplexed at why many of our returned missionaries in the UK (and more broadly in Europe) are too often going inactive very soon after returning home from their missions. I think the issue Ronan raised in his original post and this issue are very likely closely related. It isn’t until after the mission that the full realization of the consequences of this structural problem dawns on our young men, and this could very well be contributing to their discouragement and reduced enthusiasm in their Church life upon returning. (http://bycommonconsent.com/2011/03/08/missions-and-the-british-mormon-male/#comment-216227) (emphasis in original)

[9] In a press conference following the announcement, reporters somewhat bewilderedly asked why in the face of this change in policy the Church was maintaining a disparity between the age at which young men (now 18 instead of 19) and young women (now 19 instead of 21) were allowed to serve. Elder Holland explained that “there needs to be at least some separation” between the genders. When asked why in connection with this change the length of missionary service was not equalized so that women would serve two years like young men, Elder Holland acknowledged that it had been considered but that Church leadership was interested in first observing the effects of this policy change, to which he referred as a miracle, counselling to expect just “one miracle at a time”. Peggy Fletcher Stack and Lisa Schencker, “News of lower mission age excites Mormons,” The Salt Lake Tribune Online Edition, October 8, 2012 6:46 pm. (http://www.sltrib.com/sltrib/news/55035591-78/lds-age-church-women.html.csp)

[10] Anecdotally, my own observation was that the 18 year old missionaries seemed much younger than their 19 year old peers. This surprised me given my attitude that 18 and 19 year olds were equally immature and “green”. But that does not contradict President Monson’s evaluation that they were serving equally honorably and trying just as hard. To me, they just really looked like and seemed like babies compared to the other missionaries, despite only one year of age difference! But that year can make a huge difference during the teenage years when the stresses of maturing compound everyday.

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2013/03/01/mouths-of-babes-does-can-mean-should/feed/1john f.Our Dead V: Memorial Day at St. Paul’s Cathedralhttps://abev.wordpress.com/2012/05/29/our-dead-v-memorial-day-at-st-pauls-cathedral/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2012/05/29/our-dead-v-memorial-day-at-st-pauls-cathedral/#commentsTue, 29 May 2012 22:30:11 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=755]]>Part IV, Part III, Part II 1/2, Part II, Part I

St. Paul’s Cathedral is one of my favorite buildings in the world. I love spending time under its splendid, cavernous dome whenever possible, whether attending a service, listening to an organ or choral concert, or just dropping in sightseeing with out-of-town visitors who are staying with us. I spent time there last month when my parents visited and then again yesterday with my brother Adam and his wife Eve and their children. It turned out to be a moving way to commemorate Memorial Day.

In past years we have been blessed to use Memorial Day as an occasion to visit the resting places or birthplaces of ancestors here in the UK and in the United States. Little did we know that our sightseeing visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral on this Memorial Day would become an opportunity to reflect on the life and death of my grandmother’s brother Glenn Brady who was an American airman stationed in the UK to fly sorties over Europe as a crew member of a B-17 “Flying Fortress” during World War II.

Glenn was born on January 30, 1921 in Fairview, Sanpete County, Utah and died one month shy of his 23rd birthday on December 20, 1943 when his bomber was shot down on a bombing raid over Bremen. As a staff sergeant and turret gunner in the crew of the B-17, Glenn had been stationed in Kimbolton, England as part of the 8th Air Force, 379th Bombardment Group, 527th Squadron. His fatal mission over Bremen in December 1943 was the crew’s sixth mission.

According to information obtained by German intelligence from at least three survivors who parachuted out of the crashing plane into enemy hands (records that were then given to U.S. officials after the war), the bomber had already dropped all its bombs and was heading back when it was shot down. The plane was apparently hit by attacking German fighter planes, and engines one and two on their B-17 caught fire.

Once hit and with two engines on fire, Glenn’s bomber was losing altitude rapidly, the plane filled with smoke, and they went into a spin. The centrifugal force made it difficult for those who made it to get out. They reported seeing Sergeant Brady pinned in the Ball Turret area. One said “Staff Sergeant Brady was standing on the seat of the Ball Turret trying to reach his chute as we were spinning down. I don’t believe he was successful”. Another said “He was firing at enemy aircraft in the rear of our ship”.

One witness said he saw the tail of the plane break away from the rest of the plane, and one account said he was pretty sure Sergeant Brady was in the tail when it broke away, and crashed to the ground. Another remembers he heard Sergeant Brady shouting at the Captain to bail out — and then shouting for everyone to bail out.

The German intelligence information names the German village of Westerbeck, just a little north of Osterholz-Scharmbeck, as the place of the crash. The documents also show that his body was interred at a “Cemetery of Army Post W.G., Section III, Field K, Row No. 1, Grave No. 3. on December 24, 1943″.

Grand Union Flag, or “The Continental Colors”

Glenn’s experience came to mind on this Memorial Day as we made our way past St. Paul’s holiest space, the High Altar, to spend a few moments in the apse contemplating the American Memorial Chapel and the significance of its placement at this location in the Cathedral right behind the High Altar. This was a part of the Cathedral that was destroyed in the German bombing of London during the war. When it was rebuilt in the 1950s, funds were donated by the British people to create the American Memorial Chapel, which has a dedication reading “To the American dead of the Second World War from the People of Britain” inscribed on the floor in front of it. As noted at the Cathedral’s website,

The images that adorn its wood, metalwork and stained glass include depictions of the flora and fauna of North America and references to historical events.The three chapel windows date from 1960. They feature themes of service and sacrifice, while the insignia around the edges represent the American states and the US armed forces. The limewood panelling incorporates a rocket – a tribute to America’s achievements in space.

The American Memorial Chapel houses a “Tablet” with a Roll of Honor containing the names of all Americans who died while en route to or stationed in the UK. The Tablet is a massive tome in a locked glass box with brass framing sitting on top of a waist-high marble pedestal with the following inscription in gold lettering on the front:

THIS CHAPEL COMMEMORATES THE COMMON SACRIFICES OF THE BRITISH AND AMERICAN PEOPLES DURING THE SECOND WORLD WAR AND ESPECIALLY THOSE AMERICAN SERVICEMEN WHOSE NAMES ARE RECORDED IN ITS ROLL OF HONOUR THIS TABLET WAS UNVEILED BY H.M. QUEEN ELIZABETH II ON 26 NOVEMBER 1958 IN THE PRESENCE OF RICHARD M. NIXON THE VICE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Glenn Brady’s name is listed in the Roll of Honor that is kept in the American Memorial Chapel. Unexpectedly, our visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral became a meaningful Memorial Day Commemoration as we contemplated this fitting tribute to an American airman who was put to rest in a cemetary behind enemy lines:

As I made my way through the crowded local Costco recently, I stepped back a moment and appreciated the diversity surrounding me. Although approximately 92% of the population in the UK is white, about 45% of the remaining 8% of the UK population that are ethnic minorities live in London. And we’ve enjoyed having a high concentration of this 45% in and around the area of London where I currently reside. We have become accustomed to seeing people in their religiously significant daily dress in all circumstances, from the morning school run, to regular visits to the supermarket, to going to movies in the cinema and just about everywhere else. (In fact, it is not unusual for us to see such dress in our LDS ward on Sunday as investigators from all of these ethnic and religious backgrounds politely keep their commitment to the missionaries working in the area to visit us and see what the Church is all about.)

At Costco, I had to navigate around a family of what appeared to be Somali Muslim women forming a guantlet as they moved slowly down the aisle near the store entrance. A mother with two teenaged daughters — all three wearing a black hijab. Mingling in perfect commercial harmony, these Somali women mixed with white British (and Americans, such as myself), a large number of black British and black Africans, some of the latter wearing the recognisable religious attire customary for Muslim men, Indian men and women wearing traditional dress with religious significance, and a group of what appeared to be Pakistani Muslims with the women wearing the niqab-burqa.[1]

Hasidic Jews in Prescribed Attire, source unknown

Stopping in front of the granulated sugars in Costco’s warehouse-style aisles, my ears picked up a conversation in Yiddish and, sure enough, a family of Hasidic Jews turned the corner, dressed accordingly. Unable to restrain myself, I lingered and listened to the husband and wife discuss the products on their shopping list in Yiddish (it’s so wonderful!). This pause gave me occasion to step back, really notice, and appreciate the ethnic and religious diversity on display in the store that day, as easily observable by the ethnicities, languages and, of course, the traditional religious dress that so many of them were faithfully wearing.

I was faithfully wearing my religious attire as well.

Wait, what? A white, mid-30s, middle-class suburbanite American working in a secular profession wearing religious attire? That simply doesn’t compute, does it? Aside from very few (infamous) exceptions, such as John Walker Lindh,[2] this perhaps comes across to the casual observer as an egregious category error.

But there I was, standing next to a family of Hasidic Jews, having just passed a group of Pakistani Muslims with women wearing the niqab, shopping together with Hindus in their characteristically colourful clothing and Somali Muslims in their more subdued religious attire, and I too was wearing the unique religious attire of those Latter-day Saints who have chosen to make what we consider to be holy covenants with God in the temple: the temple garments lovingly referred to by both our creedal Christian brothers and sisters and secular America alike as “magic underwear”.[3]

Temple garments are worn by a relatively small number of Latter-day Saints — not all Mormons have decided to visit a Mormon temple and make the lifelong covenants of Christian discipleship that are exclusively on offer there. Latter-day Saints who have done so and remain committed to their faith have promised to wear the temple garments under their clothing whenever practical as a symbol and reminder of these covenants. The garments remind the Mormon men and women who wear them that they aspire (through allowing the Atonement of Jesus Christ to take effect in their lives) to become “priests and priestesses” to God in the hereafter[4]; the temple garments are therefore, in fact, priestly vestments. As a result of their symbolic significance, Latter-day Saints see them as providing spiritual protection against the mundane temptation to do things unbecoming of a disciple of Jesus Christ because they are meant to be a constant reminder of these temple covenants of Christian discipleship.

The comfort taken by Latter-day Saints in the potential for such spiritual protection offered by the temple garments as an ever-present reminder of these covenants expanded in Mormon folk beliefs to faith promoting rumours of instances in which the temple garments also provided physical protection against external physical harms. This latter belief apparently held historically by some Mormons — that this priestly vestment worn under the clothing could also afford actual physical protection — is likely the source of its description as “magic underwear”.

But Mormons can jusitifiably wonder why this characterisation of the Mormon temple garments as “magic underwear” remains so prevalent among such disparate segments of the American population. In fact, it does not seem like a stretch to conclude that latent racism — or at least Orientalism[5] — could be a factor in this analysis.

It is understandable to see how some might find it funny in an adolescent kind of way to think that people might believe (1) that God would command or at least endorse the wearing of priestly vestments underneath normal clothing as a reminder of covenants of Christian discipleship and (2) that this underwear can provide spiritual and/or physical protection. But something else perhaps a little more sinister is conceivably at play here.

Until recently, it is fair to observe, the majority of Latter-day Saints have been white, middle-class Americans living in the suburbs of American cities or in rural areas — this certainly seems to describe a considerable period of Mormon demographics throughout the twentieth century. And white, suburban-dwelling middle-class Americans simply do not wear ritually prescribed religious attire of any kind on a daily basis. Even the most religious among this demographic, unless he or she is actually an ordained minister of their particular church, still wears standard middle-class secular clothing provided by our profit-driven fashion industry. Perhaps a subconscious belief among this demographic, who throughout most of the twentieth century were the main peers of suburban American Latter-day Saints, that religiously prescribed attire is just for orthodox Jews and the various “brown” peoples of the world, not white middle-class Americans, could be behind this lingering fascination with the temple garment.

The theory is that Bill Maher and Robert Jeffress, examples of two white, middle-class Americans (though both are probably much richer than the average white middle-class suburban American), can both share a laugh about “magic underwear” despite their otherwise fundamental religious and ideological differences precisely because of the blatant absurdity (in their minds) of the idea of fellow white, middle-class Americans actually wearing such ritually prescribed religious attire on a daily basis. It is simply a shared assumption, not even necessary to communicate between the two in a live interview, even between two otherwise such differently thinking people. And the pundit class and the media — both still mostly made up of white, middle-class Americans — can ridicule Mormons about the garments in discussing the very serious candidacies of qualified contenders for the office of President of the United States because they find it ludicrous to think of people in their same demographic wearing priestly vestments, no matter that they are worn discreetly beneath the clothing so as not to draw unwarranted attention to them.[6]

To clarify, I am not suggesting that white, middle-class Americans are racist against Mormons; rather, mockery of Mormon temple garments as “magic underwear” could possibly be seen to reveal latent racism that stubbornly persists among white, middle-class Americans against the various races and ethnicities of the world whom they mentally associate with (silly or superstitious?) religious costumes worn out of ignorance or oppression.

* * *

Though Mormon temple garments are worn beneath the clothing and therefore are not readily observable like the religious attire of others, the temple garments simply constitute Latter-day Saints’ own religiously prescribed dress (for the relatively small number of Mormons who have made covenants of Christian discipleship in a Mormon temple). But in America, both fundamentalist Evangelical Christians — those exemplars of true Christian charity — and atheists on the secular left — enlightened, tolerant secular humanists that they are — unite in their derision of Mormon priestly vestments. Is it simply too hilarious to think that white, middle-class suburban American co-workers are wearing (hidden!) formally prescribed religious attire on a daily basis, much like the adherents of other venerable world religions, as an expression of their commitment and devotion? (Educated white people just don’t do that, do they?) It is an argument worth considering, particularly given that, far from ameliorating any criticism, wearing these priestly vestments unostentatiously underneath the clothing seems to have only led to further scorn because, after all, underwear is simply funny.

[3] Nothing demonstrates how nicely the prospect of ridiculing beliefs that are holy to Mormons can bring together such otherwise irreconcilable parties as America’s secular political left and its fundamentalist creedal Christian religio-political right quite as well as Bill Maher’s recent interview with Dallas First Baptist pastor Robert Jeffress, covered here at BCC by Ronan. Sure enough, “magic underwear” solicits a shared laugh from such odd bedfellows in the segment, which can be viewed on Ronan’s post.

[5] Historically, Orientalism (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orientalism) is the romanticised depiction in Western art or literature of “Eastern” life/culture/morals/motifs. As products of a nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century Western worldview, these depictions were frequently based on caricatures or stereotypes of non-Western peoples/cultures/attitudes as ignorant, primitive, opulent, oppressive, immoral, lecherous, etc. (a prime example might be Georges Rochegrosse’s nevertheless gorgeous “The Slave and the Lion” or the various studies of Middle-Eastern or Indian harems by nineteenth-century European artists). A study of such depictions and the history of Orientalism in Western thought led Columbia scholar Edward Saïd, in his 1978 book Orientalism, to describe Orientalism as a biased view of the East (referring mainly to the Middle East and Asia) based on notions of assumed Western cultural and moral superiority that was and continues to be used to justify imperialistic political agendas. These ideas gained traction in the postcolonialist movement as encouragement for imperially dominated cultures to write their own stories and produce their own depictions of themselves. As can be imagined, however, Saïd’s description of Orientalism as propaganda against its own subject matter can itself be criticised (see here, for example) as a highly politicised reading of the development of Orientalism in the Western imagination. One art critic recently described Saïd’s 1978 book as “a modern classic — of fear and loathing” (Jonathan Jones, “Orientalism Is Not Racism“, Guardian Blog, 22 May 2008). Jones continued, “Today the west is bleakly incurious about the history of Islam, its art, peoples and learning. There’s a blank wall of terror. This wall has been strengthened by Said’s book because it closes down a crucial way for cultures to encounter one another: it closes down romanticism.”

In discussing the idea of this post with BCC permas, some queried whether this “magic underwear” phenomenon was more of an expression of Orientalism than of latent racism, as I have characterised it in this post. I was grateful for the thought-provoking comment but ultimately decided to stick with latent racism because it lacks the sophistication or implicit/subconscious admiration inherent in Orientalism, which at its root is based on a romanticised and highly idealised depiction of “the East”, based as it may be on mere stereotypes. The two are related, of course, but I think latent racism fits better as a description of white, suburban Americans being turned off by people who look and otherwise act and work/live like them wearing religiously prescribed daily attire (even though hidden underneath clothing, somewhat similar to Orthodox Jews’ tallit katan (Read more here)), as Kevin Barney helpfully reminded me), which is perhaps loosely (subconsciously) associated with “other world religions” and not standard American creedal Christianity or atheistic/agnostic secularism (given that both unite in ridiculing Mormon temple garments).

[6] In fact, in comparing the temple garments to the hijab as religiously significant attire, BCC’s own Blair Hodges has discussed similarities between the significance of the hijab and the temple garments for their respective wearers, noting this key difference of not “broadcasting” religious devotion in the case of the temple garments (Blair Hodges, “Islam’s Hijab and Mormon Garments: On Clothing as Broadcasting“, Life on Gold Plates, 13 October 2009).

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2012/01/16/latent-racism-orientalism-and-magic-underwear-in-american-society-and-mitt-romneys-presidential-campaign/feed/2john f.muslim menIndonesian hijabHasidic dressBecoming a Mormon: Thinking about a Brand with Elder Ballardhttps://abev.wordpress.com/2011/10/14/becoming-a-mormon-thinking-about-a-brand-with-elder-ballard/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/10/14/becoming-a-mormon-thinking-about-a-brand-with-elder-ballard/#commentsFri, 14 Oct 2011 20:35:52 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=741]]>I am a recent convert to “Mormonism” myself. Not too many years ago you could find me vigorously arguing on Mormon-themed blogs about the importance of avoiding the word “Mormon” as a nickname for members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.[1] At the time, it felt like a concession to detractors of our faith to self-identify by the nickname they derisively gave to us in the nineteenth century. Ironically, however, it was precisely our nineteenth-century ancestors in the faith who had made peace with the descriptor and good-naturedly co-opted it to describe themselves, leaving us with the lasting nickname.

Latter-day Saintism

I believe my reticence about using the word “Mormon” developed organically from the push in the last quarter of the twentieth century (and possibly for at least a couple of decades before that) to drop the use of “Mormon” as an adjective referring to ourselves. True to form, despite being a Mormon through and through, I had dutifully completely eliminated “Mormon” or derivatives of it from my own vocabulary by the time I was 19 years old and ready to serve a mission. It was therefore no surprise to find a ward mission leader in my first ward on my mission (in East Berlin) who reminded the missionaries in our weekly meetings never to use the term “Mormone” or “Mormonen” and instead to refer to ourselves as “Heiligen der Letzten Tage” or simply “HLTs“. This had evidently been heavily emphasized in certain parts of Germany during the same period, and, given our correlated curriculum and policy agenda as a Church, presumably elsewhere throughout the world as well, and not just in the United States or English-speaking areas.

The policy intention was understandable and desirable: to emphasize to the world the importance of Jesus Christ to us as a Church, given our belief that Jesus Christ is the founder of the Church and that we as members place him at the center of our religious lives. From an internal perspective, calling ourselves Mormons made no sense at all — “Latter-day Saints” was perfectly descriptive to our own insider ears because we know ourselves to be disciples of Jesus Christ, just like those who believed in him and followed him in New Testament times, who were likewise referred to as “Saints”. Because we live almost 2,000 years after these people, we describe ourselves as Latter-day Saints to differentiate ourselves from those first disciples of Jesus Christ who were also called Saints.

President Hinckley’s comment in General Conference on October 7, 1990 reveals how hard Church leadership had been working to diminish use of the lingering word:

I suppose that regardless of our efforts, we may never convert the world to general use of the full and correct name of the Church. Because of the shortness of the word “Mormon” and the ease with which it is spoken and written, they will continue to call us the “Mormons”, the “Mormon” church, and so forth.

We may not be able to change the nickname, but we can make it shine with added luster.

All of this places upon us of this Church and this generation an incumbent and demanding responsibility to recognize that as we are spoken of as Mormons, we must so live that our example will enhance the perception that Mormon can mean in a very real way, ‘more good’.”

To put it simply, the “Mormon” nickname was highly disfavored during the time period, despite its recalcitrant usefulness around the world — it translates as a loan word into most languages, even if only phonetically — as a reference to us as a people, and to the Church. But President Hinckley’s 1990 comment was also an admission that it might not be possible to achieve our ideal position of retiring the nickname, given how easy it is to use, how descriptive it is for external use in referring to us and how long of a life it has had.

The rehabilitation of Mormonism

The end of the first decade of the twentieth century has seen a rehabilitation of the word “Mormon” among Mormons. The truth is that as early as 1994 the Church had issued press protocols allowing use of the word “Mormon” to refer to members of the Church or as an adjective relating to us as a people. But with the emergence of the Church’s “I’m a Mormon” PR campaign within the last year or so, any doubt should have completely melted away about the acceptability of using the word “Mormon” to refer to ourselves as members of the Church or for others to use in describing us. We now seem to have come full circle and are proactively and good-naturedly embracing the term as did our nineteenth-century ancestors.

My own gradual acceptance of “Mormonism” did not really occur until the last few years. I suppose it was the culmination of more exposure to neutral or positive uses of the term as I returned from my mission and became casually acquainted with “Mormon Studies”, at first through FARMS in the 1990s and then through other publications, as well as Mormon-themed blogs, in the 2000s. But to take Wilfried’s post as a snapshot, I was still trying to dissuade people from using the term “Mormon” in 2004. Nevertheless, by the time the “I’m a Mormon” campaign emerged, I realized I was finally comfortable being referred to from the outside as a Mormon, meaning that the advertisements’ use of the term did not induce the cringe it would have for me as a missionary.

Elder M. Russell Ballard, Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

Consistent with the well known press protocol about how to use the word “Mormon”, Elder Ballard noted in his recent General Conference address on October 2, 2011 that “referring collectively to members as Mormons is sometimes appropriate.”[2] Pointing out the historical and descriptive nature of the nickname, Elder Ballard referred to the “I’m a Mormon” campaign and took a realistic stance on use of the term. Noting that it was “sometimes appropriate” to refer to Church members as Mormons seemed to be an understatement in light of the “I’m a Mormon” campaign. But the concession also seemed to be a response to comments made by President Boyd K. Packer in the previous General Conference on April 2, 2011 that appeared to reflect the past approach suggesting that Latter-day Saints should not be satisfied to refer to themselves as Mormons.[3] But, with reference to explicit revelation on what the Church should be called,[4] Elder Ballard also reiterated the longstanding press protocol that the term “Mormon” should not be used as a nickname for the Church itself.[5] In doing so, he expressed a hope that through effective branding (essentially) we can successfully associate the term “Mormon” (the nickname that will not die) in people’s mind with the Church’s proper name when Mormon is used to describe members of the Church.

The importance of a brand

In addition to his doctrinal teaching about the revelatory source and meaning of the official name of the Church, Elder Ballard focused in his address on this concern about branding:

A recent opinion poll indicated that far too many people still do not understand correctly that Mormon refers to members of our Church. And a majority of people are still not sure that Mormons are Christian. Even when they read of our Helping Hands work throughout the world in response to hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, and famines, they do not associate our humanitarian efforts with us as a Christian organization. Surely it would be easier for them to understand that we believe in and follow the Savior if we referred to ourselves as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In this way those who hear the name Mormon will come to associate that word with our revealed name and with people who follow Jesus Christ.

Elder Ballard’s address has proven timely given the subsequent controversy that arose the very next weekend at the Value Voters Summit from statements made by Robert Jeffress, pastor of First Baptist Church in Dallas, who said that Christians should vote for a competent Christian over a competent non-Christian, given the choice, and Mormons are not Christian. Dozens of responses erupted from around the country as prominent journalists and Evangelicals called foul and either stressed that a political candidate’s particular faith was irrelevant or that Mormons do indeed consider themselves Christian or asked incredulously who Jeffress thinks he is that he could judge substantively whether a particular individual is a true Christian or not. From a Mormon perspective, however, Jeffress’ statement hits at the heart of the branding problem.[6]

The Church has long worked to bring the word “Mormon” into association with the official name of the Church, and particularly with the prominent appearance of the name of Jesus Christ in the Church’s official name, so that the two become synonymous. For instance, many of us will remember TV commercials that would end noting that “This message is brought to you by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Mormons”. In addition, the Church has always emphasized the official name of the Church as part of the larger project of making people aware of the Church’s Christ-entered existence and message. In 1995, part of this effort included redesigning the logo to highlight the prominence of the name of Jesus Christ in the name of the Church. In the redesign, the name “Jesus Christ” was centered and written in larger font on the middle of the three lines of text that convey the Church’s official name on its new logo. A simple response to accusations that Mormons are not Christians — setting aside theological quibbles about the actual creedal Christian (somewhat self-serving) definition of “Christian”, this accusation itself is seen by Church leaders and members alike as a failure of non-members to associate the “Mormon” brand with the “Church of Jesus Christ” brand — has always been to respond with reference to the presence of the name of Jesus Christ in the name of the Church, and the new logo has assisted in that approach since its introduction.[7]

All Saints' Woodford Wells

As I listened to Elder Ballard’s address, my concern was with whether such an emphasis on branding could ultimately intrude on spirituality. Elder Ballard said, “Let us develop the habit within our families and our Church activities and our daily interactions of making it clear that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the name by which the Lord Himself has directed that we be known.” Of course, I already had experience conscientiously avoiding the term “Mormon”, and this is no longer expected, even on the face of Elder Ballard’s talk. But one could argue that a seemingly mundane emphasis on branding could potentially make Church members who attend Church for spiritual uplift feel like employees of a corporation needing to adhere to a particular branding policy for marketing purposes.

I have realized, however, that questions of effective religious branding are not unique to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and need not necessarily contain any corporate overtones. Each day as I walk past the lovely Anglican parish church near my children’s school (pictured above), I have occasion to reflect on the similar effort made by Anglicans, Catholics, Baptists, Methodists and Presbyterians to remind people that Jesus Christ is the center of their religion, despite the popular nicknames each denomination carries that could conceivably mask this fact.
You will find this sign hanging over the entrance to All Saints’ and conspicuously posted at or near the door or other convenient, public-facing surface on most creedal Christian churches in the United Kingdom. The sign and logo look comfortingly familiar to this Mormon who belongs to The Church of JESUS CHRIST of Latter-day Saints. I am pleased to observe that this particular creedal Christian branding campaign began in 2000-2001,[8] six years after The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints presciently seized an opportunity to brand itself in a way that puts Jesus Christ front and center. It has been observed that as Mormons, living our lives as disciples of Jesus Christ is the best symbol we can put forward for our faith. Yes, Elder Ballard, names (and brands) are very important!

[3] “Obedient to revelation, we call ourselves The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints rather than the Mormon Church. It is one thing for others to refer to the Church as the Mormon Church or to us as Mormons; it is quite another for us to do so.” Boyd K. Packer, “Guided by the Holy Spirit”, General Conference Address, April 2, 2011 (http://lds.org/general-conference/2011/04/guided-by-the-holy-spirit?lang=eng)

Interestingly, a number of these Mormon responses have given Jeffress some credit in the consistency of pointing out the distinction between Mormonism and creedal Christianity. On the other hand, one commentator turned around to explain, not unconvincingly, how the Southern Baptist Convention is a “cult”. (See rameumpton, “Southern Baptist Convention Is a Cult”, Millennial Star, October 8, 2011 (http://www.millennialstar.org/southern-baptist-convention-is-a-cult/)).

[7] In her own response to the recent Mormons/Christians controversy precipitated by Jeffress, Kristine has pointed out in her By Common Consent post linked in FN6 above that this approach is less effective, perhaps even vacuous: “The name of our church shows that we think of ourselves as devoted to Jesus Christ, but it just shouldn’t be expected to do much work in terms of persuading other people who define “Christian” more specifically.” Admittedly, the practice does seem a bit tautological, and, as such, I would think Kristine’s acute observation applies mostly to raising it in response to theologians who are excluding Mormons from identification as “Christians” based on a narrow definition of their own based on their particular creedal views. But it perhaps overlooks the actual effectiveness of the branding in the logo and the argument based on the name of the Church among people who are learning about the Church and Mormons’ beliefs for the first time — arguably, these are the more important focus of the branding issue rather than creedal Christian ministers and lay members who have formed preconceptions about the narrow creedal Christian definition of the word.

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/10/14/becoming-a-mormon-thinking-about-a-brand-with-elder-ballard/feed/0john f.m-russell-ballard-10LDS logoAllsaints Woodford WellsAnglican BrandingLike a Trampled Flag on a City Streethttps://abev.wordpress.com/2011/08/10/like-a-trampled-flag-on-a-city-street/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/08/10/like-a-trampled-flag-on-a-city-street/#commentsWed, 10 Aug 2011 15:03:56 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=735]]>I enjoyed and was humbled by Aaron R.’s great post today about the London riots. We live in neighboring wards in London’s eastern outer boroughs so we have both experienced the riots first hand, though thankfully my particular neighborhood was not touched, though others in my ward were more affected. His post reminds me once more that he is a better man than I — and he’s a sociologist, so I understand the charitable and analytical place that his post is coming from. I am grateful for his good example! He reflects well on Latter-day Saints with this perspective.

Cowardly Criminality

The riots are still fresh and, in truth, it is not certain that tonight will be free from trouble. Unlike Aaron, I do not have any charitable or sympathetic feelings toward the rioting thugs at this time. I hope that reflecting on his post and more broadly on the Gospel I can develop such a perspective in the near future.

Right now I am fuming about what has happend over the last four days. This is nothing like democratic protests (even those that can turn violent) in situations where protesting is the only possibility for addressing grievances.

Looting in Hackney, East London (ht:Mirror)

In contrast to the Arab Spring protests that have recently occurred, the London riots are simply an embarassment — no trace of courage or nobility is associated with the criminal youth who engaged in a very materialistic temper tantrum over the last four days. My observation today is that this was purely about opportunism, greed, wanton destructiveness and simply letting loose because there was an excuse.

So Much for Civic Pride or the Rule of Law

Woman Escaping from Burning Flat in London Riots (ht:Mirror)

At this point (and I hope that Aaron’s example softens my heart), no matter how one looks at the situation, the riots reflect very badly on the perpetrators, implying that the only thing preventing them from doing this more often is their perception that they are likely to get caught and punished by the police. They are only complying with the law at the minimum level possible and only because of the threat of arrest, and not for any bigger reason, such as basic morality. There is no independent commitment to the Rule of Law as a principle or basic human morality as a guide visible in the marauding actions of these criminal youth. Rather, with the perception of the threat of being arrested for lawbreaking lifted on this occasion because of the sudden, widespread nature of the hooliganism, something sinister lurking barely beneath the surface in the rioters emerged. (I hesitated to describe it as “hooliganism” because that does not adequately describe the bad behavior, which far surpassed youthful mischief and vandalism and descended into real evil as the youths committed arson, burning down shops and apartment buildings in their own neighborhoods.) The perception of impunity was an illusion because they will be prosecuted.

Criminal Behavior, not Protesting Turned Violent

Jewelry Shop and Flats Burning in Croydon, South London (ht:Mirror)

This isn’t LA in 1992. There was no quasi-legitimate grievance that served as the initial basis for the rioting to begin. (Of course nothing justified what the LA riots ended up becoming either, but the spark was a legitimate grievance that could have led to more meaningful democratic protests but devolved into even worse rioting than we have seen here over the last four days.) Instead, opportunists seized upon the chance for bad behavior as they cynically exploited a grieving family’s peaceful protest at the shooting of their son during his attempted arrest. The family is on record denouncing the riots and disclaiming any affiliation.

Social networking then allowed this to happen in this way as gangs of youths texted, blackberry messaged and twittered about where the next “fun” and “free stuff” could be had. Gangs of rioters consisted of twenty-first century digital boys (and girls) who apparently don’t know how to live in the real world, but they’ve got a lot of toys. The perpetrators were urban and in some cases suburban youth (and adults) wearing designer clothes and using their blackberries and iPhones to conspire about their next crimes.

Law and Order

The police handled this admirably in the sense that they exercised restraint in resisting the urge to charge in and start beating the robbers with nightsticks. But it shocked all of us to watch them standing in lines while, in their view, kids smashed into shops and ran away with armfuls of stolen goods.

Police Officer Stands Near Burning Car in Hackney, East London (ht:Mirror)

Or to see them standing in full body armor while buildings burned. To be fair to them, they would have surely stopped the thugs from throwing petrol bombs at shops and buildings if they were actually present in that moment (we in the public are assuming). But some media coverage wasn’t helpful as from watching it on the TV it appeared that police officers were standing by as buildings burned and fires spread. One media report claimed that three fire trucks appeared at a burning city block and simply turned around, heading elsewhere, giving the building/block up as a lost cause. It is anyone’s guess as to how factual this (and other anecdotes) is. But I think people are feeling less confidence in public services today and are wondering if the Law part of this episode (where the perps go to court for their crimes) will be more fulfilling than the Order part.

Outrage and British Stoicism Mingled in the Aftermath

As to the feelings of residents of the neighborhoods hardest hit, I watched an interview on BBC where a woman whose shop was smashed and robbed in Clapham (or maybe it was Croydon), angrily stated that the perpetrators were “feral rats” and that their parents bear a lot or most of the responsibility for what has happened. I admit that this strikes me as legitimate outrage, even as I applaud the stoicism that saw hundreds from the local communities turn out to clean up the mess left by these criminal youth.

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/08/10/like-a-trampled-flag-on-a-city-street/feed/0john f.Looting in Hackneywoman jumping from buildingCroydon fire2police in HackneyPluralism and Persecution in the UKhttps://abev.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/pluralism-and-persecution-in-the-uk/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/pluralism-and-persecution-in-the-uk/#commentsWed, 22 Jun 2011 18:39:54 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=729]]>Despite the Telegraph’s deliberately provocative title (“Christians are more militant than Muslims, says Government’s equalities boss”), which doesn’t accurately reflect the content of the article, the Chairman of the UK’s Equality and Human Rights Commission recently raised some interesting points and makes some insightful observations about integration, pluralism and claims of religious persecution in modern society (ht:M*).

Trevor Phillips explained that although the Commission did not have a reputation of standing up for people of faith in the past, he is committed to do so in the role. But the Telegraph also reported that Phillips observed that Evangelical Christians in the UK are more “militant” in complaining about discrimination — by which he appears to be referring to bringing administrative or civil actions under equality or employment legislation — than Muslims in the UK.

From his vantage point, according to the Telegraph, this is because

Muslim communities in this country are doing their damnedest to try to come to terms with their neighbours to try to integrate and they’re doing their best to try to develop an idea of Islam that is compatible with living in a modern liberal democracy.

The most likely victim of actual religious discrimination in British society is a Muslim but the person who is most likely to feel slighted because of their religion is an evangelical Christian.

I think this is a fascinating and insightful observation. Evangelical Christians, in Phillips’ view, are cynically claiming discrimination, primarily in cases relating to homosexuality, possibly as a vehicle to make headlines and gain political influence. I am not sure what data informs this particular observation by Phillips but the point about Muslims in the UK, by and large, making a real effort to integrate or at least find a way to come to terms with “a modern, multi-ethnic, multicultural society” seems valid, in my own admittedly limited observation.

Similarly, I share Phillips’ skepticism in the face of Evangelical Christian claims of being persecuted. Phillips acknowledges the mean-spiritedness of the new atheist pundits such as Richard Dawkins, whom he names specifically, which he says he regrets. But he also notes that “there are a lot of Christian activist voices who appear bent on stressing the kind of persecution that I don’t think really exists in this country.” I also think that such claims by a majority religion in a country that does not even have an institutional separation of church and state and where the state religion is Christianity are extremely dubious. Whether the source of such claims of persecution really is a veiled attempt to gain political weight and influence is more difficult to affirm and I don’t think it’s particularly necessary to do so in order to agree with the deeper point about pluralism.

If Phillips is correct in his observations, it raises the inference that Muslims are more committed to religious pluralism in the UK than Evangelical Christians. This might seem ironic at first blush but is less so considering that adherents of minority religions are the most immediate primary beneficiaries of a society’s commitment to religious pluralism (the “modern, multi-cultural, multi-ethnic society” to which Phillips refers also, in my view, would necessarily encompass a robust notion of religious pluralism over and above mere toleration). Majority religions, by the way, also benefit in the long run from true religious pluralism because it is in everyone’s best interest for peace and prosperity (in my opinion) for such pluralism to exist, even if it means that a majority religion doesn’t get to proscribe the adherents of minority religions in their spiritual privileges or deny them of their individual rights as citizens. Depending on their perspective, adherents of the majority religion might view this as more of a bug than a feature (Warren Smith?) but in the bigger picture, where true religious pluralism exists, my belief is that adherents of the majority religion will not desire to leverage this position in this way.

Perhaps the most controversial opinion to surface in Phillips’ observations is that the Christians who are responsible for all the noise are people whose manner of belief is “incompatible with living in a modern liberal democracy”. More provocatively, according to the Telegraph, Phillips identified such people as African and Caribbean immigrants who are gaining influence in traditional Christian churches in the UK. Whatever truth there might be to this observation, it is far from the politically correct thing to say both on religious and racial grounds (though Phillips is himself a black Christian).

I can see this latter observation about this type of Chritianity raising warning flags among advocates for religious freedom and freedom of conscience. As someone who considers himself in that category, I cringe to think of a government agency tasked with enforcing equality legislation making the observation that certain people’s religious beliefs are “incompatible with living in a modern liberal democracy”.

But in the same breath, Phillips asserts the Commission’s and his own personal commitment to the principle of religious autonomy:

The law doesn’t dictate their organisation internally, in the way they appoint their ministers and bishops for example.

It’s perfectly fair that you can’t be a Roman Catholic priest unless you’re a man. It seems right that the reach of anti-discriminatory law should stop at the door of the church or mosque.

I’m not keen on the idea of a church run by the state.

I don’t think the law should run to telling churches how they should conduct their own affairs.

Based on his observation that the Evangelical Christians making all the noise about persecution and discrimination hold beliefs incompatible with living in a modern liberal democracy, it could seem like he was making a threat of some kind and planning to somehow restrict those beliefs or the possibilities of those who hold the beliefs through his role in the Commission. But in stating clearly that the Commission “is committed to protecting people of faith against discrimination and also defending the right of religious institutions to be free from Government interference” and that he personally doesn’t think “the law should run to telling churches how they should conduct their own affairs”, even with regard to women or gay clergy, it does not seem like this is the case.

I have wondered whether there is really anything to Christian claims at being the most persecuted people/religion in the world, which surface from time to time in the United States and the United Kingdom. These claims have never rung particularly true for me. Life in a pluralistic society founded on the rule of law entails some give and take. Some of the “give” in the equation might feel a little uncomfortable. To what extent should our commitment to pluralism and liberal democracy bridge the gap between this discomfort and actually claiming that we are being persecuted? In my view, Mormons have a much more valid claim to persecution in modern society than Evangelical Christians but I still fear that we far too easily raise concerns about being persecuted where that is perhaps not the case and perhaps if we ourselves were only a little more dedicated to contributing to real religious pluralism in society, we would not come to a conclusion that we are being persecuted but rather that we are “giving” (consecrating?) something in return for the privilege of building such a society.

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/pluralism-and-persecution-in-the-uk/feed/0john f.Where Does It End? The Real Danger in Warren Smith’s Perspectivehttps://abev.wordpress.com/2011/06/03/711/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/06/03/711/#commentsSat, 04 Jun 2011 05:14:31 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=711]]>Dave noted yesterday at Times and Seasons the inherent incivility of journalist Warren Cole Smith’s recent dismissal in Patheos of Mormons’ eligibility for the office of President of the United States precisely because of their religion. I found Dave’s analysis cogent and important. My concern with WCS’s viewpoint runs deeper than whether he and those who share his views have simply departed from the bounds of civil discourse.

A sound inference invited by WCS’s Patheos article is that he, and by extension those who agree with him, believes the religious beliefs of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) disqualifies them from playing any role whatsoever in the society that WCS envisions for the United States of America. This is, of course, fundamentally at odds with the ethos of what America means (and what it means to be an American) for most of its inhabitants: a land where the first freedom continues to be the freedom of religion/conscience.

Arguments about Constitutional interpretation aside, most Americans should and can agree that the First Amendment ingeniously guarantees this first freedom through the combination of the Establishment Clause and the Free Exercise Clause — two essential components that most Americans believe (at the Founding as well as now) must be a part of the equation to guarantee freedom of religion as our first freedom. This combination creates the environment for a truly religiously pluralistic society to exist (especially after the Fourteenth Amendment incorporated the First Amendment against state and local governments instead of just as a limitation on the federal government) by preventing religious organizations from mingling religious influence with civil government and in so doing fostering one religious organization or dogma over another. More importantly, by preventing religious organizations from mingling religious influence with civil government, the First Amendment is meant to and does prevent one religion from proscribing another in its spiritual privileges and denying the individual rights of citizens who happen to be members of a disfavored religion.

In the pluralistic society that this framework makes possible (a pluralism that is, in fact, indissociable from a democratic society), religion does not disqualify an individual from any public office or from performing their civic duties as citizens in any other capacity in society. WCS’s arguments in his Patheos article, however, trend in the other direction and should cause concern for Americans more broadly, not just Mormons.

WCS argues that Mormons are dangerous and therefore should not be eligible for President of the United States. But the same logic behind WCS’s arguments must apply to Mormons in any other capacity as well: Senators, Congressmen, Governors, Mayors, Police Chiefs, FBI Agents, school teachers, firemen — and there is nothing in WCS’s reasoning or logic that would prevent his view from extending into the purely private economy. Mormons should not be in positions as CEOs, industry leaders, partners at prestigious law firms or indeed any law firms, doctors, surgeons, professors at private universities, etc. WCS’s main reasons for concluding that Mormons are dangerous and therefore unfit serve as President of the United States include the following*:

Unreliable — Mormons believe in continuing revelation. Because Mormons believe that God leads his Church now as in ancient times through inspiration to leaders ordained and set apart as Apostles (including the President of the Church and his counselors in the First Presidency) who are sustained by church members as “prophets, seers, and revelators”, they are dangerous. “If the beliefs are false, then the behavior will eventually—but inevitably—be warped” (Patheos).

Errant — WCS points out that despite Romney’s and most Mormons’ ardent belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God and Savior of the World, as portrayed by the New Testament, Mormons generally do not subscribe to, and indeed explicitly reject as extra-biblical and unnecessary, the Nicene Creed. Romney (and any other Mormon candidate for President of the United States) therefore “has some explaining to do” (Patheos) because failure to “affirm the Nicene Creed” makes Mormons’ otherwise pious devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ “flawed and dangerous” (Religion Dispatches).

Weird — Mormons have “highly idiosyncratic views of history” (Patheos) that stem from their religious beliefs. For example, “Mormons believe Lost Tribes of Israel came to the Americas, and that Jesus came too” (Religion Dispatches). Despite a fairly large body of Mormon beliefs that a secular, atheistic society could legitimately deem “weird” (in addition to the Divine Sonship of the Lord Jesus Christ, the miracles he performed during his Ministry, his Atonement including his Resurrection from the Dead, among others), it is interesting that in continuing to emphasize this point about the Lost Tribes of Israel (in the Patheos article and the Religion Dispatches interview) WCS focuses on something that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints does not and has not taught as doctrine in the past.† Believing, for example, that after his death and Resurrection in Jerusalem (and after his Forty Day Ministry), Jesus Christ visited people in the Western Hemisphere who believed in him as the sought-for Messiah based on Old Testament scriptures, is according to WCS too weird and ahistorical and could interfere with “negotiating the outcomes of conflicts with real histories that go back thousands of years” because “conflicts in the Middle East, in Asia, and elsewhere require an understanding of history and human nature that are not fabricated out of whole cloth” (Patheos).

Validation — Being President of the United States is a big deal. So if a Mormon is elected to that office, “there can be little doubt that the effect of his candidacy — whether or not this is his intent — will be to promote Mormonism. A Romney presidency would have the effect of actively promoting a false religion in the world” (Patheos). In fact, despite Romney’s clear record of actually living the life of a Christian disciple§ (as evidenced by the sum total of Mitt Romney’s existence, his actions, his family, his devotion — too squeeky clean, in fact, for anyone to be able to bring up any dirt on him in the 2008 election except precisely his pious devotion to Jesus Christ as a Latter-day Saint), Romney and all other Mormons are “unfit to serve” because in WCS’s opinion, and apparently in the opinion of an unquantifiable but arguably large number of primary voters, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a “false and dangerous religion” and a Mormon president could break down prejudices in people’s minds against Mormons resulting in, perhaps, more people joining The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

The truly chilling aspect of WCS’s perspective is considering its ultimate implications for our pluralistic society in the United States. If WCS and likeminded people believe that these main reasons hold true when considering the capability of a Mormon to serve as President of the United States, then where does it end? We can very reasonably infer that the same list/reasoning applies in the minds of WCS and those who agree with him theologically when considering whether a Mormon (or other citizen who is a member of a religion that does not affirm the Nicene Creed) should be in almost any other position in our body politic, whether in the public or private sector. Particularly the last summary point about publicity/validation means that WCS and those who agree with him theologically are against Mormons in any high-profile position, whether in companies of their own creation and management or in government representing constituencies including WCS or those who agree with him theologically.

For most Americans, this whole idea should be very alarming and viewed as extraordinarily dangerous to the pluralism and good order that we enjoy today in our Constitutional Republic, the first fruits of which are to guarantee religious freedom and freedom of conscience. The society envisioned by WCS and those who agree with him theologically does not protect religious freedom in the manner conceived of in our Constitution by preventing religious organizations from mingling religious influence with civil government and thereby fostering one religious organization or dogma over another through government channels. To the contrary, the fruits of WCS’s society would inexorably be the proscription by adherents of one particular religious dogma of other religions/dogmas in their spiritual privileges and the denial of the individual rights of citizens who happen to be members of a disfavored religion. This might have been the standard operating procedure in the German Democratic Republic (where the state religion of atheistic party Communism proscribed the spiritual privileges and individual rights of all other religions/dogmas despite lip-service to religious freedom and equality in constitutional documents) or other totalitarian states but it is not what America is about.

Let us all work tirelessly to prevent this from happening and to promote a truly pluralistic society that is true to its first freedom in protecting the religious freedom of all of its citizens. The alternative is not only dangerous — for Americans, it is unthinkable.

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* It should be noted that at Religion Dispatches Joanna Brooks recently concisely summarized WCS’s reasons as Mormons are “errant, weird and unreliable” (the same list I employ above as an accurate summary), which curiously drew an objection from WCS despite the fact that they are a distillation of the premises on which WCS’s argument rests. The above list fleshing out Joanna’s shorthand shows that her descriptors were indeed an accurate summary of WCS’s reasons for concluding that Mormons are dangerous and unfit for President of the United States. Nevertheless WCS bristled at Joanna’s shorthand, telling her not to put words in his mouth and claiming to have “tons of Mormon friends”. To WCS’s Mormon friends if it is true that he has some, I ask, do you realize that he views you not just as misguided theologically — despite your wholehearted acceptance of Jesus Christ as your Savior (perplexities arising from the Nicene Creed aside) and your full fledged efforts to live every day as disciples of Jesus Christ — but actually as dangerous to our body politic?

† Latter-day Saints generally believe that God led select groups of families from the Ancient Near East, particularly Jerusalem, to the Western Hemisphere at various times throughout recorded history, and it is the religious history of these people that Mormons believe is contained in the Book of Mormon. It is not claimed that these people constituted the Lost Tribes of Israel. If Mormons’ beliefs are so weird, why does WCS need to overreach in this manner and characterize immigrant groups as the Lost Tribes to make it sound weirder?

§ As opposed to a mere abstract belief in the Nicene Creed — this is lived religion we’re talking about here, where the rubber meets the road. “Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them” (Matthew 7:20).

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2011/06/03/711/feed/7john f.Christmas Testimonyhttps://abev.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/christmas-testimony/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/christmas-testimony/#commentsMon, 13 Dec 2010 21:28:40 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=700]]>Now that President Uchtdorf has rehabilitated pride in one’s children and family, I feel confident in relating my immense gratitude for my children and how proud I am of how they are developing in the Gospel. My nine year old daughter shared the following testimony in Fast and Testimony Meeting last week:

I would like to share my testimony with you. In primary today we read a poem called The Christmas Guest. In this poem a man dreamed that the Savior was going to visit him on Christmas Day. He was so excited that he prepared everything to be perfect for his guest. But as he waited he saw an old beggar at his door with torn shoes and clothes. He gave him a pair of shoes and a better coat and sent him on his way, wondering what was taking his guest so long. Next an old woman came to his door bent over under a heavy pile of sticks. She asked him for a place to rest and he allowed her to rest in his house and gave her something to eat. But he kept wondering where his guest was. Next a lost child came to his door and he knew he had to help her find her family. So he took her home to her house. When he came home Christmas was over and the man sadly went to his room and prayed to ask God why the Lord had not come. But when he was praying the Spirit told him that the Lord had kept his promise and that when he had helped those three people in need, he had been helping the Lord.

What really struck me about this poem was that the Lord was everyone so when we help everyone we are helping the Lord. And I bear that testimony to you in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

We have neither encouraged nor discouraged the kids to go up to bear their testimony during Fast and Testimony Meeting but like we did when we were kids, they often choose to do so on their own, unprompted. When they do, however, they have never born the standard children’s testimony one frequently hears in Church*. This is different from when as kids we would go up and bear testimonies because I am pretty sure we always recited the standard testimony and sat back down.

I am grateful for my daughters’ thoughtful testimonies. (I’ve also seen this in Ronan’s then nine-year old son who bore his testimony at a Testimony Meeting that we held in my home at the instructions of our Stake Presidency one Sunday in January when the whole region was completely shut down with heavy snow. — These aren’t the rote testimonies that we used to bear as children.)

Earlier this year, my second daughter, six years old at the time, bore her testimony in Fast and Testimony Meeting and simply said “I am grateful to be a Christian and for the sacrifice of the Lord for me.” and sat down. These kids are miles ahead of where I was at their age. What better way to learn about the pure truths of the Gospel than from the mouths of our own children?

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* i know the church is true i love my family i know the book of mormon is true i know president [x] [when we were bearing this standard kids’ testimony it was President Kimball and then President Benson] is a prophet in the name of jesus christ amen

]]>https://abev.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/christmas-testimony/feed/6john f.Our Remembrance Sundayhttps://abev.wordpress.com/2010/11/15/our-remembrance-sunday/
https://abev.wordpress.com/2010/11/15/our-remembrance-sunday/#commentsMon, 15 Nov 2010 16:40:12 +0000http://abev.wordpress.com/?p=689]]>The tradition in our ward and in some other wards in the UK is to have a Remembrance Sunday service on the second Sunday in November — the Sunday closest to November 11, or Armistice Day. In doing so, we essentially join with the rest of society in this act of remembering veterans as the rest of the Christian churches in the country uniformly dedicate a service on this day to the memory of those who died serving in past wars and to those currently serving. Part of this tradition in our ward is to move away from the assigned congregational talks that we usually have on a Sunday and stick to a readings-based program planned out in advance to capture the Spirit of the day and convey the purpose of the meeting.

I conducted our meeting this year and in introducing the readings-based program/format, I commented that this Remembrance Sunday program was not actually a “celebration” but rather an acknowledgment of the millions who paid the ultimate price for their countries. With some difficulty given the sheer magnitude of the loss in The First World War I explained my opinion that there were no winners in WWI and that the 15.1 million soldiers who died were not masters of their own destiny but rather only pawns in someone else’s political game.

Our program had a certain logic to it. The theme of the meeting was taken from Alma 36:2:

I would that ye should do as I have done, in remembering the captivity of our fathers; for they were in bondage, and none could deliver them except it was the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob; and he surely did deliver them in their afflictions.

The readings-based format allowed us to involve more people than a normal Sacrament Meeting with talks. After enjoying a reading of John McCrae’s “In Flanders Fields” (1915) by an old veteran in our ward, we had a string of scriptures read by various ward members of all ages from all different cultural and national backgrounds. The first readings included Doctrine and Covenants 134:2 and other scriptures generally outlining a possible argument for just war, including Alma 46:11-16 (The Title of Liberty). We had some somber hymns interspersed, such as “I Need Thee Every Hour” and “Nearer My God to Thee”. Then to bookend this portion, we heard a reading of Moina Michael’s “We Shall Keep the Faith” (1918) by the son of a British soldier who was taken captive at Dunkirk (rather than escaping with the majority in the flotilla) and spent the rest of the war in a Stalag followed by intensive hospitalization for four years after the war.

Isaiah 52:7 served as a somewhat blunt but always beautiful transition scripture from the war-focused portion of the meeting. The rest of the scriptures read emphasized our duty as disciples of Jesus Christ to make peace. I realize this could be considered slightly dissonant with a Remembrance Sunday church service but so much the better. This section of scriptures praising the earthly peacemakers also included acknowledgment of those who publish peace in the Spirit World, as found in Doctrine and Covenants 138:29-35, which was read as well.

In an attempt to turn our minds back to publishing peace in the here and now, we arose and sang “God Save the Queen” as is traditional on Remembrance Sunday in the UK. This was followed by a reading of the Twelfth Article of Faith. The last scripture read to close off this peace-focused portion was 4 Nephi 1:2-5.

The bishop gave concluding remarks before our Two Minutes of Silence. He focused on very traditional Remembrance Sunday themes of gratitude for those serving in defense of the country in the military. He pointed out that the readings in the program had been by old and young (we had very young primary children included as some of the readers), lifelong church members and new converts and by people from the full variety of walks of life and cultural backgrounds represented by our ward. He noted the contributions made in WWI by regiments from West Africa, India and Asia, East Africa, North America (Canada and the United States) and from Australia and elsewhere. Fittingly, he turned his attention toward the early Latter-day Saints who began their lives in England and Wales and emigrated to North American in search of Zion to find persecution, forced migration and death by exposure. It is the sacrifice of those who dedicated their lives to preserving our freedoms that we remember on Remembrance Sunday. So it was nice for him to give this British Holy Day a very Mormon twist in that way. As always, our bishop then tied our readings and the idea of Remembrance Sunday back in to the Atonement of Jesus Christ, ensuring that the outcome of the meeting was entirely Christ-focused. He did this in part by re-emphasizing the lead scripture, Alma 36:2.

Standing together with my ward, all with heads bowed, in the Two Minutes of Silence was very moving. The two minutes seemed very long but the chapel was extraordinarily quiet. Even noisy children were silent.